


Collide

by AutumnRayne



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 63,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8026633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnRayne/pseuds/AutumnRayne
Summary: After Chloe ditches Lucifer in the alley, leaving him turned on and confused, he decides to tease her in the same manner.  Until he decides to discover just how far he can push.  When a case dredges up Chloe's personal demons, he unintentionally pushes the wrong buttons.  Lucifer, however, is not about to let a fight between partners keep him from getting what he desires.  Post 1x5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first venture on AO3. If I need to polish etiquette, please let me know! This takes place the morning after "Sweet Kicks". Thank you for stopping by!

Being Lord of Hell was not without its privileges.  Lucifer could reach into humans and draw out the desires hidden beneath the surface of their beings.  Some desires, he found, were darker and buried deep.  Some were more innocent and floated near the surface.  In any case, these desires were a significant driving force behind human behavior.  The mortal struggle was constant; selfishness versus selflessness, do good for one’s self or do good for another.  The entire conflict amused him, as each person reacted differently to the choices on the table.  Those who chose to satisfy their own interests appealed more to Lucifer than those that sacrificed their own benefits.  Temptation, after all, was his specialty, and when temptation won, delightful things occurred.  With a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face, he could capture the gaze of an unsuspecting subject – _Tell me, what do you desire more than anything in this life?_ – and pull delicious secrets from the depths of the human soul. Though extracting desires from some people proved challenging, never in all his years had Lucifer come across a person he could not manipulate into telling the dirty truth.

Until he met Chloe Decker.

Lucifer’s preternatural influence had no effect on the homicide detective and his curiosity over the preposterous development morphed into a mission.  Despite her claimed repulsion of his presence, she didn’t seem to mind his company; at least not to a point of putting up a convincing fight to drive him away.  So he set aside his general interactions with humanity and started to work on the enigma of the woman.  However, learning about her, about her imperviousness to his effect had proven tedious.  He had little contact with her, little time to ask his questions, to make his observations.  He needed more.  He needed a reason to be consistently by her side.

To his delight, a doorway to opportunity had presented itself during the previous days in the form of Benny Choy, a business associate who owed Lucifer a favor.  An attempt on Benny’s life had inadvertently taken that of an innocent young Latino woman.  Using his personal connection to and knowledge of the intended target, Lucifer had convinced the department’s lieutenant to allow his involvement in Chloe’s investigation.  A deal made, the case solved, and favors exchanged, the lieutenant found the advantageous publicity she so desperately sought from the Latino community and Lucifer found himself officially a civilian consultant for the department, solely in relation to Chloe’s cases.  It was a trivial title, a trivial position, yet it offered him precious time with the detective.

With a soft yet exasperated sigh, Lucifer leaned the heels of his palms along the edge of the granite top of the vanity and stared blankly into the mirror.  The silk collar of his white dress shirt stood stiffly against the skin of his neck, waiting to fold over the black tie.  He had not been able to concentrate long enough to start the process of securing the loop, however, and the ends of the tie had fallen to hang loosely over his shoulders, unknotted.  He could not focus on anything except Chloe.  Thoughts of the detective had occupied the better part of his morning, just as they had plagued his mind throughout the night.  Throughout the previous months, if he was genuinely honest with himself.

Pulling the tie from around his neck, Lucifer dropped it on the vanity and left the bathroom.  He wandered into the open area of his penthouse and made his way towards the bar.  As he neared the sofa, he stopped, taking in the closed eyes and satisfied smile of the female draped across the cushions.  He allowed himself a short, amused hum before continuing across the room.  Sliding himself behind the counter, he grabbed a full bottle and an empty glass, and poured a healthy dose of scotch.  His gaze focused through the floor-to-ceiling windows and into the beauty of the sun bursting into the morning sky.

“Last night was incredible,” the female voice purred.  Lucifer pulled himself from the splendid mix of colors and white clouds, and glanced towards the sofa.

“I have no doubt it was spectacular, Maze,” he smiled gently.  She rolled onto her stomach and rested her hands and her chin on the arm of the sofa.

“You should have joined us.”  Lucifer’s eyes dropped to the drink in his hand and his smile slowly fell.  He could have joined them, would have had he not spent a good portion of the night walking through the city, wandering aimlessly as he pondered the detective’s behavior.  She had not argued upon discovering that he, in his newly established consultant position, was her new partner.  _At least now I can keep my eye on you,_ she had said.  _Keep your enemies close, right?_   Close.  That was exactly what he had wanted to hear.  He had glossed over the ‘enemies’ portion of her comment, flashed a smile and drawn closer to her.  _Does this mean you’re ready to take me home and consummate our new arrangement?_   Oh, the way she had laughed, the way she had leaned into him; the way her eyes teased the sultry thoughts he yearned to discover and fulfill.  Yet that had not been what she had in mind.  It had been a ruse, a mock of his interest.  Slipping into the driver’s seat of her vehicle, she had locked the doors and driven away, leaving him eager and confounded, alone in the alley.

“Perhaps next time.”

“What’s bothering you?” Maze asked, rising from the sofa.  He took a long sip of the scotch and shook his head.  “Lucifer?”  She moved to the bar and sat on one of the thickly padded stools.  Her concern shifted to anger as she studied his sharp profile.  “You’re thinking about _her_ again, aren’t you?”  ‘Thinking’ did not do his mind’s activities justice.  Once he had returned to his penthouse and had thrown himself into the satin sheets of his bed, he had expended the remaining hours of the night dreaming of Chloe, torn between cursing and admiring the manner in which she yielded her naughty playfulness.

“I need your help, Maze,” he smiled, quickly turning his attention to her.

“Lucifer,” she warned slowly.

“Don’t get yourself all twisted,” he said.  “You haven’t even heard my plan yet.”  She tapped her long, black-painted nails on the bar top as she narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it.”  She slid off the bar stool and walked towards the elevator.

“I could just order you to help me.”  Maze stopped and turned to look at him.  His gaze had returned to the window and he slowly rolled his wrist, swishing the amber liquid around the bottom of the glass.  “Though I would hope, being that it’s important to me, you’ll be a dear and help without the directive.”

“I’m not here to play your games.”

“You exist to protect me, Maze,” he reminded her.  “And I feel as though I may need…extra protection on the morn of this fine day.”  He looked at her and shrugged sheepishly.

“Huh.  Just what are you planning to do?” she asked, eyebrow raised in interest.

 “Why, our pet detective, of course,” he smiled widely.

“She’s not _my_ pet, Lucifer,” Maze scowled.  “She’s yours.”

“Yes, be that as it may.”  He swallowed the last of the scotch and cleared his throat as he refilled the glass.  “I am off to play cop this morning, and I need you to keep tabs on Detective Douche.”

“Lucifer, no.”

“Maze, yes,” he said, rolling his eyes as he took a drink.

“No.”

“Yes.”  His dark eyes locked on hers, his features stern.  “He is not to find his way to his estranged wife’s house, under any circumstances.”  His expression softened.  “Maze,” he started gently, “I know this is well beneath your exceptional abilities and far from anything about which you care, but I need the assist.”  She took a turn to roll her eyes.  “Also, this is not really a ‘by any means necessary’ situation,” he added.  “There’s no need to torture the dim-witted detective.  At least, not yet,” he smiled.  “So, whatever you do, no blood and guts.  The last time you left entrails everywhere, well…”  He laughed, sweeping a hand through the air.  “It was a beautiful, _fantastic_ mess, but it took _weeks_ to clean up.”

“I am _not_ a fucking babysitter!” she yelled.  He hummed around a mouthful of liquid as he raised a finger from the glass.

“Speaking of, Douche will be taking the offspring to school.  She is an innocent and not to be involved in whatever scheme you dream up.  Understood?”

“Lucifer—”

“Do you understand?” he asked slowly, his voice harsher, louder.

“Yes.”  Maze folded her arms across her chest.  “How, exactly, does this fit into protecting you?”

“Detective Douche was none too pleased finding me at Detective Decker’s house the other morning.  He thinks I want to sleep with her, that I’m a threat to him,” he laughed.  “Can’t imagine what gives him that idea.”  He took another drink and shrugged.  “A jealous man, with a gun,” he said pointedly, “and a devil who seems to suddenly have a weakness when it comes to lead projectiles.  I mean, who’s to say how _that_ scenario plays out.”

“You know, some days, I almost wish he’d shoot you,” she huffed.  Turning on her heel, Maze quickly headed to the elevator.  Lucifer released a satisfied sigh and downed the last two mouths-full of scotch in one swallow.  His thoughts returned to the night before, to the first few moments in the alley as he watched the taillight’s of Chloe’s car vanish into the distance.  He had stared at that spot long after their disappearance, attempting to put a name to what had happened.  Was leaving him there merely fun and games, a playful, child-like joshing?  Or was she really teasing him, playing hard to get, as he had recently surmised?  He could not decide which of the two behaviors was the most likely.

“Turnabout fits nicely into my little niche of punishment, doesn’t it?” he asked aloud as he regarded his empty glass.  A slow, sly smile spread across his face.  “Chloe, Chloe, Chloe,” he mused.  “Whatever shall I do with you?”

**Lucifer**

With the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows and a soft hum falling from his lips, Lucifer worked delicately over three pans on the island stove.  The food was nearly ready, as he hoped his dear detective would soon be.  Chloe had turned off the shower some time ago, though she had yet to make her appearance in the kitchen.  He did not understand why she, like so many mortals, took so long to ready for the day.  There was certainly something satisfying in the comfort offered by a warm spray of water cascading down one’s body, but Lucifer found it a wasted luxury if there were not multiple bodies sharing said spray.  He also understood and appreciated the desire to look one’s best, but could not comprehend the human inefficiency in doing do.  There was simply too much to do, too much to discover and take pleasure in, to squander one’s times in a sodden state or staring at one’s reflection.

However, if Chloe felt her time better spent prepping and dolling up, Lucifer was not going to complain.  He appreciated her natural look, her wavy, golden hair, her lightly tanned skin, yet her glammed-up appearance sparked his fancy all the same.  The darker tint of color and faint outline of black she sometimes sported around her eyes brought out a stunning sparkle of blue that was often lost in the pale shade of the orbs.  The subtle brush of pink across her cheeks thinned her face, drawing attention to the fullness of her lips; lips he deemed kissable regardless of the color they wore.

No, he had no complaints.

As he expertly folded the first of two omelets, Lucifer laughed lightly.  Maybe he had one complaint.  One small complaint.  He did not care for the attire Chloe insisted on wearing, believing the dark jeans and dress pants, and the loosely fitting tops left entirely too much to the imagination.  Not that his imagination needed to wander.  After all, he was well acquainted with her nude scene in _Hot Tub High School._   There was also the more recent, private showing during his previous attempt to make her breakfast.  It had been a delightful surprise when she had greeted him in the precariously secured towel, unintentionally baring her wet skin in all its tempting, sumptuous glory.  He knew there was no chance she would greet him in such a fashion a second time, and that only made his longing for less boring attire that much stronger.  Would it hurt for her to don a short-skirted dress every now and again; to show off the lovely legs she kept hidden beneath the material of her slacks?

Lucifer did not think it would.

In fact, he _knew_ it wouldn’t.  He had quite the opportunity to see the habitually veiled limbs the evening of that very day, after she had talked him into hosting the Players’ After Party.  He would readily admit to a great feeling anticipation, nearly pacing a hole through the tiled floor of his penthouse as he waited eagerly through those brief minutes while she changed out of her bland shirt and pants, and into the short, red, sheet of a dress he had lent her.  Once she had stepped into his view wearing the sexy little dress, his lips had parted and his lungs had drawn a slow breath.  She had looked at him, hands and an eyebrow lifted in silent question.  Unable to vocalize his thoughts, all he had been able to do was nod his approval.

The detective’s towel malfunction aside, Lucifer did not want to see any other part of that spoiled morning repeated.  Despite her aversion to the task, Maze would follow his orders, and Lucifer would not see his time with Chloe interrupted by her soon-to-be ex-husband, or their offspring.  He would not see the omelets ruined, burned as was certainly the fate of his first endeavor.  He would not see himself exiled from Chloe’s house, pushed aside and out in the hustle of such sudden and intrusive chaos.

“No, no, Detective,” he said quietly as he topped each of the omelets with a large pinch of shredded cheese.  “Not this time.”  He placed his hands on his hips and smiled proudly as he looked over the pans.  “Ah.  Omelets, nice and fluffy.  Hash browns, browning.  And bacon…not too fatty, not too crisp; perfect for indulgence of unnecessary calories.”  He grabbed the spatula and pushed the hash browns around the pan, resuming his light humming until he heard the soft patter of approaching footsteps.  “You have an awful habit of taking almost literally forever to prepare yourself for the day.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe greeted with a sigh as she reached his side.

“Happy to see me?” he smiled.

“Not really, no.  And I do not take ‘almost literally forever’ to get ready.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

“Beg all you’d like,” she said flippantly, eying the pans.

“Beg,” he laughed, setting the spatula on the countertop.  “I do believe that is _your_ angle, Detective.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I think it’s quite obvious,” he said.  “I’ve been very clear in my intentions from the get-go.  You have thwarted my every effort.  ‘Beg all you’d like’,” he repeated.  “I think that is _exactly_ what you’re waiting for.”  She tipped her head to the side, mulling over his words as a soft breath left her lips.

“You think I’m waiting for you…to beg to sleep with me?”

“Bingo.”  Chloe closed her eyes and shook her head.

“It’s too early in the morning for this,” she mumbled.

“It is _never_ too early in the morning,” he replied with a wink.

“Hmm.  Honesty at its finest.”

“Yes, it is.”  He turned off the burners.  “And what do I have to show for it, hmm?  I’ll tell you what I have.  I have a partner who ditches me in an alley in the middle of the night instead of making good on her little…provocative display,” he said, waving a hand in her direction.  Lucifer shook his head and huffed a bit of an annoyed laugh.  “You, Chloe Decker, are a clever one.  That is an adjective I will not deny you.  Moreover, I will allow you conniving.  Devious,” he said pointedly, folding his arms in front of his chest.  “Deceitful.”

“Are you upset that I left without you last night?” she asked, offering an insincere pout.

“Shrewd,” he continued, his voice rising slightly in volume.  “Dastardly, wily, manipulative, underhanded, mean, and…”  He stepped closer and narrowed his eyes.  “Tease.”

“Think of those during your walk home?”

“Left without me,” he mocked, ignoring her goading and returning his attention to the pans.  “You make it sound as though your actions were purely accidental.  What you did…”  He pointed the spatula at her.  “That was outright abandonment.”  He flashed a cocky smile.  “And yet, here I am, making you a wonderful breakfast despite such a desertion.  Good thing I like you, eh?”

“Yeah, lucky me.  Speaking of breakfast…”  His eyes followed her hand as she reached in front of him towards a paper towel-covered plate.  The cuff of her green shirt covered all but the tips of her fingers.  “ _Why_ are you making me breakfast?” she asked as slim digits peeked farther from the fabric to grab a piece of bacon.  “Again?  Because I’m pretty sure I told you not to break into my house anymore.”  He watched her lift the thin piece of fried meat to her mouth.  She took a bite and then licked a spot of grease from her bottom lip.

“Yes, right, Love.”  He cleared his throat and tore his attention from her mouth.  “You did in fact say that.  But we’re partner now,” he said cheerily.  “And partners do things together.”

“Like having breakfast?”

“Among other things,” he added with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows.

“Yeah.  Nope.”  His smile fell.

“There’s the table,” he said, pointing across the room.  “Be a good detective and sit.”  With a shake of her head and a light laugh, Chloe made her way to the table and took a seat.  Two places were set, each with a small glass of orange juice and a fork.  “Here we are,” Lucifer said, setting a full plate in front of her.  “Now doesn’t that look scrumptious?”

“It does,” she agreed as she reached for her glass of juice.

“I cannot wait to see what case the day has in store for us,” he said as he sat down.  “I am absolutely _beside_ myself with anticipation.”  Chloe pulled the glass from her lips and regarded it with a frown.

“Lucifer?” she started, trying to identify the odd flavor to the drink.  “It tastes like there’s… _a lot_ of vodka in my orange juice.”  She shifted her eyes to his.  “Did you…did you put vodka in the orange juice?”  He simply smiled and raised his glass in toast.  She shook her head.  “I’ll just have water.”

Lucifer kept his eyes on her as she pushed back the chair and made her way across the room.  She had not completely dried her hair after her shower and the strands gathered in thick sections near the end of their lengths.  Where they lay around her shoulders, they left wet splotches on her shirt.  As she opened the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water, he noticed how the long sleeve of her shirt stretched snuggly over the curve of her elbow.  A quick peek of her hands as she returned to the table revealed what he suspected.  Curled fingers tightly clenched the cuffs, never allowing the fabric to bare her hands.  As Chloe sat down, she met Lucifer’s eyes.

“Are you cold, Detective?” he asked lightly.

“Cold?”  He motioned towards her hands with a quick, upward tilt of his fork.  “Oh.  No.  Short arms, long sleeves,” she said with a shrug.  The fake smile she offered vanished quickly as she wigged the fingers of her right hand out of the cuff.  As she picked up her fork, her left hand fell into her lap with almost nervous movement and he knew she had not abandoned her grasp of the shirt.

“Right,” he nodded slowly.  “Of course.”  Lucifer followed suit as Chloe began to eat her breakfast but his attention remained locked on her.  Her posture was lax, her shoulders slumping forward.  Her eyes didn’t hold their typical sparkle.  She looked exhausted.  He clearly had not been the only one denied a decent night’s sleep, though he doubted her deprivation caused by the same reason as his.  Still, whatever weighed so heavily on her mind captured his attention and he was grateful to have the day to appease that curiosity.

**Lucifer**

_I find you repulsive; like on a chemical level._ Those words were not entirely truthful.  Chloe had not cared for Lucifer’s ‘God’s gift to women’ kind of attitude and had uttered the statement simply out of a need to knock his ego down a few hundred pegs.  Though he still made racy comments, he had curbed their occurrence in her presence.  To a point.  A small point.  The remarks did not appear in every part of their conversations, rather inserted at the right moments to maintain his slick, cunning persona.  She didn’t always appreciate hearing them, but the more she learned about him, the better she understood him, the more she saw the comments as an innocent part of his fun-loving, flirty nature.

It was only the overbearing sexual approach she had found repulsive, not Lucifer himself.  She remembered the night they met, the first time she had set foot in his high-priced club.  She had watched him from the staircase as he sat at his piano, quiet, calm.  Perfect.  It wasn’t until he had started talking to her – _I could swear I’ve seen you naked._ – that she formed a negative opinion.  No other part of him deserved use of the ‘repulsive’ description.  He was always dressed to the nines, his clothing melding perfectly to his tall frame.  He had a lean figure, not overly muscular but perfectly sculpted and contoured.  He was certainly attractive with a brilliant smile and piercing brown eyes.  His accent was smooth, his mannerisms genteel and no less than chivalrous.  Lucifer used each quality to his advantage, ensuring everything assisted in radiating a playboy charm.  Yet he did more than exude that type of charisma, he practically bled the seduction, the promise of complete fulfillment of sexual desire, he offered.

Chloe was not blind to his allure.  If she were to say she never in an absent moment found herself thinking about his smile or the incredible darkness of his eyes, she would be lying.  If she were to say she didn’t like the way his hair curled subtly in defiance of its perfectly straight-styled position as the day wore on, she would be lying.  If she were to say she never wondered why she was the target of his attention, or just what he would do to satisfy his appetite if she gave in, she would by lying.  However, she could say in all honesty that not once in the short amount of time she had known Lucifer did she feel an urge to wrap herself shamelessly around him.  She could not say the same of a handful of female officers and employees that worked on her floor.

The small group of women had gathered around Lucifer as soon as he had exited the elevator.  With an incredulous shake of her head, Chloe had cut through the crowd and had made her way to the lieutenant’s office.  She had then wandered towards her desk with information on a new case.  Lucifer, on the other hand, had not moved more than a couple of steps away from the elevator.  Standing in front of her desk with her arms crossed and fingers impatiently drumming against her elbows, Chloe waited for him to cross the squad room.  She rolled her eyes with each woman that took a turn to latch onto his arm.  They smiled, they giggled, they cooed in response to his attention.  He collected more than a fair share of kisses on the cheek and one rather involved kiss on the mouth.  He also pocketed two small pieces of paper; papers Chloe was certain contained phone numbers.

“Looks like someone is taking his job as a civilian consultant seriously, huh?”  Chloe closed her eyes to the sarcastic voice at her side.  “Do you fawn all over him, too?”

“Dan,” she started firmly.

“No, no.  I get it now.  The other morning, when you were in nothing but a towel…”  He laughed.  “You’re sleeping with him and _that’s_ how you keep him in line.”

“It’s not like that.”

“I’m not so sure, Chloe,” he said as she turned towards him.  “See this from my point of view,” he started, flicking a thumb across his bottom lip.  “It’s early in the morning, Lucifer is at your house making breakfast, and you’re fresh out of the shower, no clothes.  How do you think that looks?”

“He broke into the house while I was in the shower, Dan,” she defended.  “I—”

“Save it,” he interrupted.  “I really don’t want to hear it.”  She turned away and bit at the inside of her cheek in an attempt to fight off her irritation.  “Come on, Chloe,” he sighed.  “Even our daughter thought he spent the night.  You’re lucky she doesn’t understand what she’s implying.  She’s having enough of a difficult time with the separation as it is.”

“That’s the key word, Dan.  Separation.  What happened to my personal life being none of your business?” she asked quietly as she turned to him.  “I don’t have to explain myself to you.  _I_ know I didn’t do anything I shouldn’t have done, and that’s all that matters.”

“Whatever.”  Chloe shifted her attention to Lucifer as he bid the last of the women a good day and slowly, purposefully turned the shameless gaze of his black eyes towards her.  She held the gaze, unable to look away and uncaring in the moment as she felt Dan’s indignation fill the space around her.  Lucifer let a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth as his tongue quickly flicked across the inside of his bottom lip.  “Look at him,” Dan muttered.  “He looks like he’s ready to pounce.”  Slipping a hand into his pants pocket, Lucifer allowed the other to hang loosely in the air in front of his chest and widened the smile of his face as he sauntered towards them.

“Ah, there they are,” he drawled.  “Beauty and the beast.”

“Can you please not do that?” she asked quietly as he neared.

“Do what?” he asked innocently.  “Pay you a compliment?”

“No,” she replied slowly.  “Flirt with _every_ woman in the building?  I don’t have time to wait around while you sleep with everyone.”

“So I _can_ pay you a compliment?  To be clear, I was calling Detective Douche the beast.”  His hand flipped to the side, motioning towards Dan.  “You are, of course, the beauty.”

“Lucifer,” she warned.  He laughed lightly and clasped his hands behind his back.

“All right, all right.  A might jealous, are we?”

“I’m not…”  She closed her eyes and consciously lowered the volume of her voice.  “I’m not jealous,” she finished quietly.

“Nor should you be,” Lucifer quickly assured her.  “After all, you and I have all day to flirt.”  He dropped his eyes to follow the line of her body as his playful smile changed into a naughty smirk.  “And do other things.”  He moved to her side, speaking quietly over her shoulder.  “Remember, close proximity,” he started, looking up and meeting Dan’s angry eyes with a smug grin.  “At all times.”  Chloe lifted her chin to look at Lucifer; he looked down at her, his lips forming a subtle pout of kiss.  When her lips parted, Dan knew Lucifer had her full attention, whether or not Chloe realized it.

“The two of you are unbelievable,” he mumbled as he shook his head.

“We do make quite the pair, don’t we?” Lucifer sighed happily as Dan walked away.  He smiled, pleased with himself for crawling so far under the male detective’s skin.  It was not a challenging task, quickly achieved with a simple string of words and a heavy dose of insinuation, but it was a reaction Lucifer could not resist eliciting.  Checking his pride, he slipped his hands into his pockets and dropped his gaze to Chloe’s stern features.  He held his breath, waiting for her to admonish his calculated and obvious behavior.  She offered no words, simply staring at him for a moment before stepping closer.  Circling her fingers around the left lapel of his suit coat, she roughly pulled it aside, nearly slipping the fabric from his shoulder.  “Detective,” he purred.  “Right here in front of everyone?”

“Shut up, Lucifer.”  She shoved her other hand into the inside breast pocket.

“I never pegged you as an exhibitionist.  Your big movie break excluded, of course.  But if _you’re_ willing, then I am most certainly—”

“Lucifer.”  Chloe lifted her pale blue eyes to his.  “Shut up.”  She pulled the two pieces of paper from the pocket and released her hold on his clothing.  Her fingers shifted the papers; her eyes scanned the letters and numbers scribbled on each.  “Yeah, you can’t have these,” she said.  He frowned with confusion as she rolled the pieces into a ball and threw it into the small wire wastebasket next to her desk.

“And…why not?”

“Because the women that gave you those phone numbers are married,” she explained as she turned towards him.

“So?”

“So.”  Chloe sighed and shook her head.  “Lucifer, there are plenty of single people for you to…”  She waved a hand towards him.  “Do whatever it is you want to do.  You don’t get to break up someone’s marriage just to scratch your itch.”

“No one said anything about breaking up a marriage,” he defended.  “I’ve found that many couples enjoy a little experimentation every now and again.  A little…spice.”  He smiled and lifted his arms, fingertips touching, elbows spread.  “Eifel Tower,” he reminded her.

“Lucifer, I have work to do,” she said.  “No more playing kissy-face with all of the ladies, okay?”  He straightened his stance and slowly began to circle her.

“Well,” he started, perching on the corner of her desk, “I wouldn’t have to look for other prospects if you would just agree to my proposition.”

“Proposition?” she laughed, turning to face him.  “You didn’t _propose_ anything.  You just _declared_ that you’re going to sleep with me.”  He laughed lightly, enjoying the way she dramatically swept her arms through the air.

“Oh.  I _did_ do that, didn’t I?  Would it have made a difference if I had asked nicely?  Said ‘please’?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”  He tangled his fingers and placed his joined hands over his thigh.  “You have work to do?”

“Yes.”

“So you have a case.”  His eyes lit up.

“Yep,” she sighed.

“Say it,” he goaded, nudging her elbow with the back of his hand.

“ _We_ have a case,” she amended begrudgingly.

“Because we’re…”  He encouraged her words with a roll of his hand.

“Maybe I should shoot you, again.”

“Partners,” he said, making no effort to hide the irritation in his voice.  “The correct answer is _partners_.”  He folded his arms across his chest.  “I sure hope you’re a bit more on your game today whilst we’re out in the rough of the city, Detective.”  She shook her head and moved to the other side of her desk.  “I’m all for living on the edge but I find being riddled with bullets rather annoying.”

“I don’t know why you’re worried.  After all, you _are_ immortal.”  He stood and regarded her, pushing through the sarcasm of her words with derision of his own.

“Yes, but _you_ are not.  And if I lose you to some dimwit on the streets, whatever shall I do for fun?”  She smiled and nodded her head in concession.  Placing her fabric-covered palms on the desk, she leaned over it and towards him.  “Ooh,” he breathed, mimicking her stance as he raised an eyebrow.

“You know what?”

“Hmm.”  He dropped his gaze to her lips, licked his in anticipation.  “What?”

“I think I’m past the ‘maybe’,” she replied.  “I will _absolutely_ shoot you, again.”

“Yes, well.  Aim for the other leg this time, please.”  He stood and settled a hand over his thigh, his face wearing a mocked expression of pain.  “Maybe it will even out the limp.”  He straightened the front of his suit.  “Now, are you going to tell me what heinous misdeed we shall be exploring today or are you going to make me guess?”  Chloe smiled softly and gathered a few file folders from the top of her desk.

“Museum curator,” she said, shoving the folders into her bag.  “Shot twice, died on the way to the hospital.  Her husband, a lawyer, is MIA.”

“Lawyers, ugh,” Lucifer shivered.

“What?  You don’t like lawyers?” she asked, rounding the desk.

“Not at all.  Hell is crowded with them,” he explained as he followed her to the elevator.  “Loathsome buggers, think they can talk their way out of their punishments.  They never know when to shut up.”  Chloe smiled lightly and entered the car as the doors opened.

“I can see why that would bother you.”  She pressed the button for the lowest floor and the doors closed.  “I bet you can’t get a word in edgewise to talk about yourself.”  Lucifer laughed heartily and slowly clapped his hands.

“Oh-ho!  If it isn’t Funny’s cousin, Not Funny!  Now that it’s all out of your system, let’s put away the mic, shall we?  We have a crime to investigate.  It’s not the appropriate time for jokes.”

“That’s my line.”

“Perfect,” he stated with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and drop of his shoulders.  “It’s only our first official case together and you’re already starting to rub off on me.  You are a horrible influence, Detective.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Despicable.”  The doors opened to the parking garage and Chloe backed out of the elevator.

“Come on, Columbo,” she laughed lightly.  “Let’s go see our crime scene.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

The morning drive from Chloe’s house to the precinct’s building had been disconcerting to Lucifer.  Though both of Chloe’s hands had found possession of the steering wheel, neither had maintained a sturdy hold.  She had been quiet, almost absent from the moment, pensive over something outside the immediate reality.  Lucifer had believed the unusual behavior simply an effect of her lack of sleep and that not long after she began her ritual caffeinating of the morning, she would be her normal self.

He had been wrong.

As Lucifer sat in the passenger seat of Chloe’s vehicle, on route to the crime scene, he again witnessed the peculiar behavior.  Just out of the police department’s parking garage, they had encountered slow-moving traffic.  With a heavy sigh, Chloe had propped her elbow on the door and rested her temple on fisted fingers.  The hand not supporting her head rested over the steering wheel, lazily draped.  It was odd not to see her embrace her stoic ten-and-two grip of the wheel, but he had figured once the pack of vehicles reached a pace worthy of the word ‘movement’ her hands would find their respective places.  Yet fifteen minutes after traffic had settled into a decent flow, she still had not come out of her lean.

“So,” he started slowly, “a murdered wife and a missing husband, eh?  Well, my guess is the husband murdered the wife and is halfway to a new life with a younger version.  There; case solved.”  Lucifer tapped his fingers on his leg, waiting for any type of retort from Chloe.  “How easy.  And _unbelievably_ boring.”  She said nothing.  “Tell me, again,” he pushed carefully, “what attracted you to this job?”  She offered a quiet, drawn-out sigh, one that was more an automated physical action than a response to his words.

Lucifer’s eyes drifted towards the hand on the wheel.  He was pleased to see her fingers freed from the clenched position they held most of the morning, though seeing the green fabric of her shirt still shrouding her delicate skin distressed him.  It was not unusual to see an inch or two of her sleeves peeking from those of her black leather jacket, but if they were too long for a rightful fit as she claimed, the arms of the jacket would have captured and contained much more of the fabric currently hanging loose.  And oversized sleeves certainly would not stretch so tightly over her elbows.  It led Lucifer to conclude the covering of her hands a deliberate action.

“Something is different about you today, Detective.”

"Hmm.”

“I thought it was your hair.  It’s down; usually you have it pulled up when you’re in cop mode.  But that’s not…”  He made an unnoticed show of looking pensive as he rubbed the tips of his fingers over his lips.  “That’s not it.”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded.

“Maybe it’s the neon pink ooze dripping from your temple.”

“Maybe.”  She placed her foot on the brake pedal and slowed the car to a stop of the red light.

“Detective,” he admonished lightly.  “I realize that you have a tendency to ignore most of what I say to you, but typically you do a much better job of feigning your interest.”  He reached towards her and gently brushed her hair over her shoulder.  “What has you so distracted today?”  She looked at him, a small frown crossing her features as she took a moment to replay words she didn’t fully hear, to understand what he had asked.

“It’s nothing,” she answered, looking away.  “I didn’t sleep well last night.  I’m just tired.”

“Well, the circles under your eyes tell me that much.”  She slowly turned her head and pinned him with an angry glare.  He shifted in the seat.  “But you are lovely, as always,” he said nervously.  “I simply mean that’s not the entire truth.”

“I fell asleep reading some reports last night.  I had a bad dream, it creeped me out and I couldn’t sleep after that.”

“’Entire’ means the whole.  So, on with the rest, if you please,” he prompted.  The light turned green and Chloe moved the vehicle forward.  She rolled her eyes but continued.

“It felt like someone was standing over me while I was sleeping, like when…”  She pursed her lips and took a breath.  “Sometimes when Trixie wakes up in the middle of the night,” she explained, “and she can’t fall asleep again, she’ll stand beside my bed.  She never talks, never wakes me up.  I just… _know_ she’s there.”

“Interesting.”  He nodded.  “So your motherly instinct alerts you to your child standing over you as though she just emerged from an eerie cornfield.”

“Um, not…not exactly, but close enough I guess.  Minus the cornfield part.  Which, by the way, I’m going to think about every time she wakes up now, thank you very much.”

“You are very welcome,” he laughed lightly.  She shifted her position, her left hand now resting loosely over the wheel.

“I just couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had really been there,” she said as she leaned her right elbow on top of the console between them.

“You should have called me, Detective,” he said, watching as her fingers followed the curve of her ear, tucking away a small section of hair.  “I would have come to your rescue.”

“I have a gun, Lucifer, and I know how to use it.  I’m sure I could have managed had there been an intruder.”

“And as always, there you go, spoiling my fun.”

“Speaking of fun,” she started.

“Oh, here it comes.  Finally,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

“Finally?” she asked, backing away from his sudden movement.

“Yes, finally.”  He shook his head.  “Don’t get me wrong, Detective.  I certainly do not want or need you scolding me—”

“What?” she interrupted.  “I’m not going to scold you.  What makes you think that?”  When he didn’t respond, she glanced at him, catching the pointed skepticism in his eyes.

“Very well.  Then what were you going to say?”  They approached a blockade of police cars in the road and Chloe pulled her vehicle to the curb.  “I’m waiting.”  She sighed and turned off the engine.

“All right.  I _was_ going to scold you.”

“For?”

“For flirting with me in front of Dan the way you did at the precinct.”

“Ah-ha!” he laughed loudly.  “I have been waiting for this reprimand since Detective Douche walked away from our little trio.”  His smile fell as she glared at him.  “What?”

“It’s not nice.”

“I know it isn’t nice,” he said.  “It’s just so much fun!  In my defense, he has been shooting daggers at me since he and I met.  It was entirely unnecessary as at that point I was simply attempting to help you solve my friend’s murder.”  He shrugged.  “Maybe if he was a little more appreciative of our partnership, I wouldn’t be such—”

“An ass?” she supplied.

“Well, yes.  I suppose that works.”  He flashed a playful smile.  “Come on, Detective.  You have a handsome devil, and Detective Douche, puffing their feathers for you.  You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention.”

“Actually, I _can_ tell you that.  I _don’t_ like it.”

“Boring,” he stated loudly.  Unbuckling his seat belt, he leaned over the console, reaching for the keys.  “You will not be locking me in the car today, Detective,” he started as he pulled the small piece of shaped metal from the ignition.

“Lucifer.”

“Shall we?”  As he left the vehicle, Chloe watched him through the windshield.  He pocketed her keys as he moved towards the house and she growled a bit of a sigh.  Taking her keys was unnecessary; she had no intention, at least not yet, of leaving him behind.  She still was not sure why he wanted to hang around and play detective, but he offered a perspective different from her own, one that had proven oddly useful during her last case.  No, she wouldn’t ditch him during the first stages of this one, unlike the night before when their investigation was complete.  Lucifer had not been in any danger when Chloe had left him in the alley; she would not have done so if he had been.  Since people always seemed willing to oblige with far more personal matters, she was certain he’d be able to talk his way into a favor for a ride back to Lux.  The opportunity to mess with his head had been much too tempting to let pass.  If he could throw around innuendo and constantly hit on her, well, she could play a little, too.

Closing her eyes, Chloe let her shoulders fall as she released a slow breath.  According to Lucifer, his fleshy remarks were more than simply comments.  He was “puffing feathers”.  She did not want _anyone_ puffing feathers for her.  Especially two men who didn’t seem to care what she had to say about the situation.  Dan was jealous and overly protective; Lucifer was self-seeking and reckless.  Dan never had time for her; Lucifer seemed to have nothing but time.  Chloe did not, however.  She had no time, or patience, for extremes.  And she was not a prize to go home with the man who won the pissing contest.

Chloe opened her eyes and immediately narrowed them as she slowly leaned forward.  Lucifer was lying on his back on the hood of her car, arms and legs sprawled haphazardly around his body.  He was facing her, eyes closed, lips tight.  She could see the constricted movements of his chest as he was clearly trying to hold in his laughter.  She bit at the corner of her bottom lip, contemplating her move.  A nicely placed abuse of the car’s horn would no doubt scare the hell out of him, but would also draw unnecessary attention from the officers and forensics personnel roaming the grounds.  Chloe really wanted to throw the vehicle in reverse and watch Lucifer slide to the ground.  A little, wicked smile touched her lips as she pictured Lucifer scrambling for something to grab, something he could hold to stop his descent towards the concrete.  In a moment far creepier than anything she could have imagined, Lucifer slowly opened his eyes, his dark gaze instantly meeting hers without searching, and smiled.  He lifted his arm, folded it over his chest, and held her keys in the air.

“Think about it all you’d like, Detective.”  Her enclosure in the car muffled the volume of his voice yet did nothing to suppress his impish tone.  “It’s not going to happen.”  He remained reclined on the hood, emitting a lazy, amused laugh as she got out of the vehicle.  She leaned over him, pressing her palms against the warm metal to either side of his head.  “You _were_ thinking about it, weren’t you?” he accused playfully as he looked up at her.

"I thought this wasn’t the appropriate time for jokes,” she stated.

“For you; you’re the professional here,” he said.  “I’m just a civilian.”  He wrapped his hands around the keys and rested the lot over his stomach.  “I do enjoy the view from this position, Detective.”  He smiled.  “Perhaps we can try this again, you know, when we’re not in the midst of an investigation.  And maybe you could…”  He separated his hands and circled them in the air over his hips.  “Come over on this side.”  Chloe smiled dryly.

“In your dreams, Lucifer.”

“Where _are_ my pillow and blanket when I really need them?”  She closed her eyes and desperately tried to fight off the warmth spreading across her cheeks.  Losing the battle, she sighed and pushed off the car.  Lucifer sat up, laughing lightly as she walked away.  He watched as she lifted the yellow crime scene tape outlining the front of the yard.  As she ducked underneath and started along the walk, he couldn’t help but wonder if the blush still tinged her cheeks.  “My dear detective,” he breathed.  He couldn’t pull desires from her the way he did from other humans, but he clearly flustered her.  Maybe he didn’t need to use his so-called super powers to discover Chloe’s secrets; maybe he could do so the old-fashioned way.  And when he did…  “I cannot wait to crack that coy little shell of yours.”

**Lucifer**

Chloe carefully stepped over the threshold of the front entryway, studying the heavy oak door as she passed.  There were no scratches, no chips in the wood, no damage to the doorknob or the deadbolt; nothing to indicate forced entry.  She moved slowly through the large foyer, taking in the feel of the house.  The space stretched from the front of the house to a set of french doors at the back, open yet quaint with sparse, welcoming décor.  Wide, vertical stripes of ivory and a light sea green color alternated across the walls; each separated by a thin line of gold.  She reached the french doors and gently pulled back the sheer, off-white curtains.  Her eyes skimmed the brass handles and the square panes of glass, unable to find evidence of damage to either.  With a frown, she turned back to the middle of the room, immediately noting how the area seemed to glow under the touch of the late morning sun.  It was unnervingly peaceful considering what had occurred in the house almost two hours earlier.

“Detective Decker?”  Chloe turned to her right and walked into the living room.

“Hey, Manny,” she greeted.  “What do you have for me?”

“Not much,” he started with an apologetic shrug.  “Doesn’t look like anyone broke into the house and nothing obvious is missing.  The victim suffered two pointblank shots to the chest.  We haven’t located the murder weapon, and we’re still trying to find the husband.”

“Really earning your pay today, huh?” she joked lightly.

“As always,” he returned with a proud smile.  “The housekeeper, Maggie Pierson, said the husband was due in court today and that’s probably why he wasn’t answering our call.  We finally got a hold of someone at his office and, well, apparently Mr. Lloyd didn’t show up for court.  They don’t have any idea where he is.”  He shrugged.  “There are a couple of detectives looking into that.”

“Great.  Maggie’s the one that found Mrs. Lloyd?”

“Yeah.  Found her in the Lloyds’ bedroom.”

“Where is she?  I’d like to ask her a few questions.”

“She’s at the hospital.  She passed out twice while I was trying to talk to her.  She was hysterical.  Detective,” he started, lifting a hand to scratch at a balding patch of greying hair.  “She was covered in blood when we arrived.  She said she tried to keep pressure on the wounds.  She was just too…”  He shook his head.  “Miss Pierson was too overwhelmed to say anything more.  Anyway, Johnson is with her.  He’s going to take her home when the docs release her.”  Chloe nodded.

“Have Johnson text me her address when they get to her house.  And ask him to stay with her until I get there.”

“Will do,” he said as he started to pull his phone from his pocket.  “Forensics just finished.  Bedroom is upstairs, last door on the left.”

“Okay.  Thanks, Manny.”  Chloe moved towards the staircase on the far side of the room and started to ascend the stairs.  She briefly studied each of the photographs that lined the dark red wall.  They were clearly the work of an amateur photographer, though one that took the hobby seriously.  Each scene presented a grossly misshaped tree in a ghostly, almost eerie tone that sharply contrasted the inviting atmosphere of the rest of the house.  She stopped at the top of the staircase, her eyes following the string of pictures as it continued along the wall of the hallway.  Near the end of the line, Chloe spotted Lucifer.

He stood in front of a much larger picture, a painting, its frame thicker and darker, more elaborate than the ones around the photographs.  Lucifer stared at the painting, one eyebrow raised.  His left arm rested across the front of his abdomen, his wrist supporting the elbow of his right arm.  The tips of his fingers played across his slightly parted lips, gently tapping.  As Chloe reached his side, she mimicked his stance, looking over the object that held his attention.  The figure in the painting had a pale, nearly grey complexion.  It stared at them with eyes wide and mouth agape.  The figure’s hands rested alongside its cheeks, framing a contorted face forever frozen in fear.  With a bit of a frown, Chloe’s eyes shifted to Lucifer.  His expression remained passive, offering no clues as to what he was thinking.

“What is it?” she asked after a moment.

“ _The Scream_ ,” he answered, dropping his fingers to brush across the stubble on his chin.  “ _Der Schrei di Natur_ ,” he added in a perfect German accent.

“Yeah.  I know that.  Why are you staring at it?”

“It reminds me of my time in Hell,” he smiled.  “Had plenty of people over the years scream in such a manner.”  She nodded once.

“Right.  Okay.”  She walked past him, cutting through his view of the painting.  “Let’s move on.”

“Of course, not everyone screams,” he continued, following her to the room to his right.  “Some people cry, others laugh in madness or wet themselves.  Some pass out.”  He smiled wickedly as they entered the bedroom, clasping his hands in a mischievous wring.  “And when they awaken, my fun begins all over again.”  He stopped just inside the doorway and tipped his head to the side as she moved towards the closest nightstand.  “You’re ignoring me now, aren’t you?”

“Have been the whole time,” she responded.  Chloe reached into her pocket, retrieving a pair of blue, latex gloves.  As she shoved her hands into the gloves and opened the nightstand’s drawer, Lucifer moved to stand behind her.  He leaned over her shoulder as she rummaged through the items in the drawer.

“Phone charger…pen…pen…notebook…more pens,” he scoffed.  “Where are all the _fun_ things?”  Chloe stood, pushing him back a step with her movement.

“You’re not baiting me with that question,” she said, closing the drawer.

“I wasn’t baiting,” he defended as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets.  “I’m curious.”  Chloe closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

“I know I’m going to regret this.”  As she opened her eyes, she turned to look at Lucifer.  “You’re curious about where they keep the ‘fun things’?”

"Yes.  And why anyone would put anything besides toys in the drawer of the nightstand.”

“Toys.”

“Toys,” he affirmed.  “You know what kind.”  He winked and nudged her arm with his elbow.

“Whatever.”

“It’s a good place to keep them; wouldn’t you agree?” he continued.  “I mean, I’m sure you keep yours in such a place.”  She tipped her head and narrowed her eyes at him.  “All right, all right,” he sighed.  “I _was_ baiting.  Anyway…”  He took a few steps backwards and swept his arm through the air over the bed.  “Someone’s party ended badly.”  Chloe nodded as her eyes took in the tangled mess of blood-soaked sheets.

“Yeah.  Katrina Lloyd.  Two to the chest, upfront.”  She stepped around Lucifer as she moved towards the foot of the bed.  “Found by the housekeeper, who is currently at the hospital because she passed out, twice.  The husband was supposed to be in court this morning but he didn’t show.”

“Because he’s who-knows-where with another woman,” he stated.

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s likely.”

“It’s possible,” she granted.  “But not proven yet.”  He sighed with annoyance as she started towards the nightstand on the other side of the bed.  “Huh.  Look at this,” she said, waving him over as she kneeled on the floor.  When Lucifer reached her, he pulled at the knees of his black dress pants and crouched beside her.  His eyes roamed over the bottom shelf of the nightstand that housed three notebooks, then glided over the array of notebooks spilled onto the floor.  Several were open, revealing fluid cursive handwriting.  “They’re journals.”  She pushed a few books out of the way, reaching for an open one near the bottom of the pile.

“Detective,” he purred with admiration, “you never told me you were interested in others’ secrets.”  He tapped the back of his hand on her arm.  “We’re more alike than you’ve admitted.”

“I’m not interested in other people’s secrets, Lucifer.”  She pulled the book from the stack.  “Not the way you are.”  She flipped through the first few pages.

“New journal?” he asked as filled pages quickly turned to blank ones.

“Yeah.  The first entry is from two days ago; the last one from yesterday.”  Lucifer dropped out of his crouch to sit fully on the floor, legs crossed in front of him.  He reached into Chloe’s pocket and removed another pair of gloves.  “What are you doing?”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out if someone was bothering Mrs. Lloyd.”  He put on the gloves and grabbed a journal.  “Well, without the tainted responses of those you plan to interrogate, that is.”

“You’re going to read her diaries?”

“Of course I am,” he answered.  “Our victim isn’t able to answer the questions I know are mulling around in that gorgeous head of yours.”  She batted at the finger that circled in front of her face.  “This is the only voice she has now.”  Chloe sighed.

“You’re right.”  She stood.  “But we’re not doing this here.  We can read them at the precinct.”

“Or,” he started, rising from the floor.  “At Lux.  More specifically, my penthouse,” he smiled.

“No.”

“Do you really want to do this at the precinct?” he asked.  “Do you really want to hole up in a boring conference room with bland décor and hard, plastic chairs, reading until our hearts are content?”  He smiled sweetly.  “Or would you rather do so on a comfortable sofa, surrounded by the breeze from the balcony?”  He stepped closer to her.  “With a nice glass of wine?”  She shook her head.  “Shots?” he suggested.  “If I’ve learned anything in my five years here, it’s that humans can turn just about any situation into a drinking game.”  He looked at the journal in his gloved hands.  “I’m sure there’s enough in here to put together a decent set of rules.”

“We’re not turning a dead woman’s diaries into a drinking game, Lucifer.”  Chloe started towards the walk-in closet on the wall opposite the bed.

“We could always go to your place.  Get all cozy in front of the fireplace on that sorry excuse for a pullout sofa you call a bed.”  She turned towards him.  “Wine or shots.  Or both,” he offered with a smile.  “Your choice, of course.”

“How do you know that I sleep on the…”  She waved a hand.  “Never mind.  I don’t want to know how you know that.”  She started to turn away, but stopped.  “So the whole nightstand thing…”  He smiled widely.

“I was hoping you would say, ‘Sorry, Lucifer, I don’t have a nightstand’, because I know you don’t.”  He rolled his hand.  “And then proceed to tell me your special hiding place for your toys.”  Chloe shook her head and opened the closet door.  “That information might come in handy one day, Detective,” he called after her.  “Hopefully, one day soon.”

“Ignoring you again,” she called in return.  She flipped up the light switch and wandered into the closet.  The clothing hung nicely, undisturbed, in two rows along three wall of the room; Mrs. Lloyd’s clothing to the left, her husband’s clothing to the right.

“She has a sickening number of shoes,” Lucifer noted, taking in the long row of women’s footwear that lined the wall.

“And I’m sure you have a sickening number of pocket squares,” Chloe teased.

“Touché, Detective,” he smiled.  “To each his own, I suppose.  I wonder, what tickles your fancy?”

“Nothing I can afford on a cop’s salary,” she replied with a hint of a smile.  He tsked.

“Such a shame.  A lingerie fetish would suit you quite nicely.”  She ignored the way his eyes raked her body and quickly passed over his comment.

“Nothing is missing, nothing has been torn apart,” she started.  “Except for the journals.  But the paramedics could have knocked those off the shelf.  Two shots, pointblank range.  Murdered in her bedroom…”  Her words trailed off and he nodded.

“Mrs. Lloyd was familiar with her killer,” he finished.

"Not just familiar.  Someone she knew well and was comfortable having in this area of the house.”

“The husband,” he stated.  “See?  I was right.”  His smile fell as she lifted an eyebrow and let a small smile of her own tug at the corner of her mouth.  His eyes narrowed for a moment as he studied her.

“The housekeeper was covered in blood when the paramedics arrived,” she explained.  “She said she was trying to stop the bleeding, but…”

“Huh,” he nodded.  “Interesting thought, Detective.”  Chloe stripped off one of the latex gloves before reaching into her pocket and retrieving her buzzing phone.

“Speaking of,” she said, reading the message on the screen.  “Maggie’s address.”  She held the phone for show before shoving it back into her pocket.  “She’s home now so we can talk to her.  I’ve seen everything I want to see for now,” she started, pulling off the other glove.  “Let’s get out of here.”

**Lucifer**

“Commit the crime then call for help,” Lucifer muttered as he stared through the passenger window.  “Seems a rather convenient way to elude the police, yet I wonder how often it’s successful.”  He turned to Chloe who offered a lazy shrug as she steered the vehicle around a corner.

“I’ve only had one case like that,” she said.  “Just about a year after I made detective.  It was really hard to find the right evidence, harder for the lawyer to make the conviction, but in the end, we got it.”

“Wonderful.”  Lucifer smiled widely and released a content sigh.  “There is nothing quite like punishing the deserving.  I’m sure that is something on which we both agree.”

“It is,” she nodded, sending a gentle smile in his direction.  His smile faded slowly as his eyes remained on her.

“Detective,” he started after a moment.  “How much longer before we reach Miss Pierson’s residence?”

“Hmm, ten minutes or so,” she answered.

“Right.  So that’s ten minutes, or so, you have to tell me all about—”

“I’m not telling you where I hide my toys.”  Chloe’s shoulders dropped as soon as the words left her mouth.  “Shit,” she whispered.

“Ah, so you _do_ have a secret stash.”  A soft laugh rumbled from deep within his chest.  “Detective,” he purred.

“No, Lucifer, I do not have a secret stash.”

“Oh, so a _not_ -so-secret stash then.  You little minx.”  He tipped his head to the side and regarded her with a gaze of fascination.  “Hmm, the things I am learning about you, Detective.  I love it!”

“No stash, Lucifer,” she said sternly.  “Secret or otherwise.”

“No?  You were rather quick to make the remark.  That wasn’t even what I was going to ask you.”  For the second time that morning, a bright shade of red lit up her cheeks.  Judging by the scowl that appeared next, Lucifer was certain he owed his continued existence only to the fact that she was driving.  He eased back on the teasing, dropping his voice to a more serious tone.  “I want you to tell me about your nightmare.”

“We already discussed that.”

“Sort of,” he said.  “All you said was something about a cornfield.”

“ _You_ brought up the cornfield.”

“And _you_ offered little more in the way of details.  I can’t read minds, Detective.”

“Yeah, yeah.  I know; you’re not a Jedi.”  He smiled.  “You’re irritating,” she mumbled.

“And you love me all the more for it.”  Chloe drove in silence for several minutes, not looking at Lucifer but acutely aware of his intently settled gaze on her.  She had experienced more nightmares throughout her life than she cared to remember.  Monsters and ghosts ran rampant through her dreams when she was a child.  They lived in her closet, hid under her bed, yelled and shrieked as she cried in terror.  The dreams she had in high school, forgetting the combination to her locker, reading aloud in front of the class only to discover she was completely naked, were more embarrassing than scary, yet the mortification was enough to startle her awake and make her heart pound.  She constantly had dreams of falling or tripping, the sudden shift in balance jerking her body to consciousness and leaving an apprehensive pit of panic in her chest.  After starting her first case as a homicide detective, she had multiple dreams in which the victim was someone she loved, a friend or a family member.

Chloe had never been able to shake the unsettling emotions that followed the first time she had dreamed she was the victim.  That nightmare remained in her memory, vivid as the world in present time.  She remembered the cold of the stormy night, the dampness of the air around her.  She remembered the vibrant red stain of blood that soaked the white sheet covering the body.  She remembered the feeling of that sheet, stiff and prickly against her fingers.  And she remembered her heartbeat echoing in her ears as she pulled back the sheet and revealed her own face, bloodied and beaten.

Yet the horrifying intensity of that dream seemed calm when compared to the nightmare from the previous night.  There had been no visual indications of her surroundings, simply a black limbo.  In the limbo, there was a feeling, an unidentifiable _knowledge_ that the harm to come from the presence looming over her, surrounding her, would damage more than her physical self.  It would dig deep into her being.  It would scratch at and mar her soul.  It would destroy her from the inside out.  When the cool, late-night breeze had caressed her, crawling across her skin like cold fingers searching for a sign of weakness, Chloe had awoken.  She had remained frozen, unable, unwilling to leave the façade of comfort offered by her curled position on the chair.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Lucifer,” she bit quietly.  He watched her fingers pull the cuff sleeves over her hands before curling tightly around the steering wheel.  “I don’t remember any part of the dream except for the feeling.  Okay?”  She turned to him.  “Got it?”

“My, my.  Cranky today.”  She steered the vehicle into the driveway of a small house, parking just behind a squad car.  After she pulled the keys from the ignition, Lucifer quickly reached for her wrist.  Startled by his abruptness, her grip on the keys faltered and he deftly caught them in his other hand.  “Detective, tell me about this.”  His fingers slid from her wrist and slipped between the back of her hand and the cuff, gently wiggling under the fabric.

“Long sleeves, Lucifer,” she replied, pulling away.  He promptly turned his hand and tightly closed his fingers around her wrist.

"No,” he stated.  “You’re hiding.”

“What?”

“Hiding,” he repeated as she struggled to free herself.

“Hiding from what?” she laughed with a bit of irritation.

“Whatever you saw in the dream that you refuse to share with me.”  She shook her head.  “I’m serious.  I ask you to tell me about it, you grow quiet.  You were thinking about it though, the dream, in these last few minutes.”  He lifted their hands to the space between them.  “And now your hands are almost entirely covered and your fingers are incredibly clenched.”

“Maybe I was just thinking about punching you.”

“I have no doubt you do so several times daily,” he quipped, “but not this time.”  Chloe looked away and dropped her shoulders in an attempt to relax her muscles.  “It scared you,” he stated cautiously.  “I mean… _deeply_ terrified you, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she whispered.  “It was just a dream, Lucifer.”  He nodded when she met his eyes, though he knew his words were for her benefit not his own.  “So if you don’t talk about it, I won’t think about it.”

“Detective,” he argued.

“No.  We’re done with that.”  She pulled her hand free of his grasp and hauled herself out of the car.  She moved towards the house and quickly ascended the stairs to the front porch.  “We’re going to concentrate on the case, nothing else,” she said as Lucifer caught up to her.  He nodded curtly as she turned towards the door and pushed the button for the doorbell.  “Maggie Pierson,” she called before knocking impatiently on the door.  “Officer Johnson, it’s Detective Decker.  Open up.”  She jiggled the doorknob, knocked a second time and sighed loudly when she received no answer.  Chloe pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Johnson’s number.

“I hear something,” Lucifer said quietly, pointing towards the door.  “A quaint little melody.  Insanely high-pitched,” he said, rubbing his ear.  Chloe nodded and walked the short length of the porch.  As she approached the front window, she cupped her hand over the glass and peered inside.

“Voicemail,” she stated, shoving the phone back into her pocket.  “I can’t see much between the curtains.”

“Did you try the door, Detective?”

“Of course I tried the door.  It’s…”  She turned to meet his cocky grin as the door sat ajar.  “Locked.  How did you…”

“After you,” he smiled.  Chloe drew her weapon and slowly pushed open the door.

“Officer Johnson?” she called as her eyes swept the small living room.  “Miss Pierson?”  Lucifer slipped his hands into his pockets and moved to the left as he entered the house, casually walking towards the entryway to the kitchen.  “Johnson?” she called again.

“Detective?”  She turned to Lucifer as he regarded her with a raised eyebrow and a solemn expression.  His hand left his pocket, his finger pointing to an area blocked from her view by the wall.  “Is this your Officer Johnson?”  She frowned and quickly joined his side.  A small gasp escaped her lips as she moved into the kitchen.  Johnson sat on the floor, awkwardly propped against the refrigerator, a single bullet hole in his forehead above his left eye.  Chloe’s eyes drifted upwards, following a trail of blood until she found a similar bullet hole in the freezer door of the appliance.  She knelt beside Johnson and though she knew better than to expect a pulse, she held her fingers to his neck.  Finding no sign of life, she shifted her focus to his side, searching for his holster.

“He didn’t draw his weapon,” Chloe stated as she stood.  “We have to find Maggie.”  Her hands adjusted around her firearm as she lifted her arms and ventured through the kitchen to small dining area.  Lucifer followed closely, his features scrunching as the faint smell of blood grew obscenely stronger.  As they entered the room, Chloe released the breath she had been holding and lowered her weapon.  Lucifer took in the sight of a young woman’s body.  She was on her back, lying across the end of the table.  Her face was contorted and most of the back of her head was lying in bloody chunks on the floor and stuck to the wall.  Her arm hung over the edge of the table, a bloodied handgun suspended from her finger.

“Well, that was easy,” he said flatly.  “Perhaps you were correct about Miss Pierson’s involvement.  Seems the guilt may have been too much to handle.”

“Maybe.”  She rubbed the pads of her fingers across her forehead.  “All right.  I’ll call it in.”  She holstered her firearm and started to walk away.

“Wait.”  Lucifer gently wrapped his fingers around her elbow and drew her closer.  “Listen.”  Their eyes met as they both stilled.  “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah.  It sounds…like someone’s crying.”  He nodded and she grabbed her gun again.  “Where is it coming from?” she whispered.  He pointed to the hallway.

“There’s a closet.”  They walked slowly, quietly through the hall, Lucifer taking the lead.  He stood on the hinged side of the door, Chloe near the opening.  His hand closed around the doorknob as she readied her position.  Training the weapon at chest height, she nodded.  Lucifer swiftly opened the door and watched as her eyes quickly took in the scene.  She frowned and dropped her aim, focusing on the man sitting on the floor.  The whining turned into a muffled plea of a cry as he caught sight of the firearm.  “Well, well,” Lucifer started.  “What have we here?”  He dropped to a knee as he took in the man’s ankles, bound tightly with rope, and arms tied behind his back in the same manner.  A larger, red gash across the middle of his forehead dripped fresh blood over and around the contours of his nose.  Lucifer lifted his hands to the back of the man’s head, untying the bloodied and dirty cloth that served as a gag.  “And who might you be?”

“Where…where is my wife?” the man stammered through heavy breathing.  “Where…”

“Who is your wife?” Chloe asked.  He drew a shaky breath and began to cry.

“Kat,” he choked.  “Katrina Lloyd.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Lucifer stood in the kitchen’s entryway, his right shoulder pressed against the wall, hands buried in his pockets, quietly studying the man he and Chloe had found bound in the closet.  Henry Lloyd, missing husband of the deceased museum curator.  He was tall like Lucifer, carrying a bit more weight, especially around his middle.  His hair was thick and styled in a short spike across the top of his head; grey, though he appeared too young to warrant having such a thorough coloring of silver.

Henry shifted uncomfortably in his place on the sofa, unable to settle in any position he tried to take.  His hands shook as he rubbed around the raw rope marks on his wrists.  His legs bounced; first one, then the other, then both in near unison.  His face held a confused frown, touched with a trace of anger.  Lucifer had no doubt Henry’s adrenaline was still running high from what he had experienced, but he believed it only partially responsible for the man’s agitated movements.  There was something more, something lingering just beneath the surface that caught Lucifer’s attention.  It festered beneath the crumpled, light blue dress shirt, beneath the destruction of his carefully maintained professional appearance.  Lucifer could smell it on any human.  Henry reeked of guilt.  And the devil was itching to discover the reason.

As a paramedic sat next to Henry, Lucifer turned his attention to the soft sigh the detective released as she joined his side.  Her arms folded across the front of her body as she leaned most of her weight into her left hip.  He clasped his hands and tipped his head to the side as he observed her.  He enjoyed this part of the investigation, enjoyed the subtle play of expressions across her face as she prepared her plan of attack.  Her eyes started the process, narrowing ever so slightly as she searched for visual clues and anomalies.  Next, her forehead creased, crinkling faintly above her nose while she silently sifted through various possibilities and scenarios.  Then the perfect line of her eyebrow rose, just a pinch, and the corner of her mouth lifted in the smallest hint of a smile.  Lucifer wondered how many people were privy to this part of Chloe.  Past partners, Lieutenant Monroe, Detective Douche…How many of them took the time to watch the brilliance of her intuition unfold and take over, to lose one’s self in her infectious zeal?

“Forensics and the M.E. are taking care of Johnson and Maggie, and I have a few officers searching the house otherwise,” she stated quietly.  “Are you ready to question Mr. Lloyd?”

“Am I _ever_ ,” Lucifer smiled.

“Great.  This is how it’s going to happen.”  She looked up at him, expression serious.  “ _I_ am going to ask the questions and _you_ are going to keep your mouth shut.”  Pushing off the wall, he slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned down towards her.

“Is this how you treat all of your partners?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes at her.  “No wonder no one wants to work with you,” he tsked.  She shot him an angry glare and pushed him out of her personal space before walking farther into the living room.

“Mr. Lloyd?” she called gently as she approached.  “Mr. Lloyd, I’m sorry about your wife.  And I know this isn’t easy, but can you tell us what happened?”  He turned his reddened eyes towards her. 

“I’m really…not sure,” he answered.  “So much is foggy.”  He sniffed loudly then hissed as the paramedic pressed a cloth to the wound on his forehead.  “Maggie and I were…having a cup of coffee.  She and Kat always share a cup in the morning, before Kat goes to work.  But my wife was running late this morning and I didn’t need to stop at the office before court so…”  He flinched and pulled away from the medic.  “So I had coffee with Maggie.”

“Coffee,” Lucifer stated.  “With hired help.”

“Maggie was a friend of a friend,” he explained.  “She fell on hard times after her husband passed away.  When she and Kat met, well, they were best friends after that.  Maggie needed a job; we needed a housekeeper.  It worked out.”

“Yes,” Lucifer said slowly.  “And how long was Miss Pierson under your employment before she was… _under your employment_?”

“Lucifer,” Chloe whispered with an angry scowl.

“Not long,” Henry admitted.  Lucifer straightened his posture and slipped his hands into his pockets, his smile smug.  “It wasn’t…Neither one of us meant for it to happen.”

“Yet it did, and multiple times, yes?” he continued.

“Yeah.”  Henry nodded and then shook his head.  “Like I said, I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“No one ever does,” Chloe mumbled.  Lucifer opened his mouth to continue but stopped as she grabbed his arm and pulled him back a step.  “How did you end up here?”

“I can’t say.”  Henry offered his wrist when the paramedic tugged on his shirtsleeve.  “After I drank the coffee, I felt…weird.  Dizzy.  I tried to stand up, but I fell.”  His eyes dropped to the floor, gazing absently as he recalled the morning.  “I must have passed out.  The next thing I remember is being in the closet.”  He quickly looked up at Chloe.  “I remember hearing Maggie arguing with a man.  He asked her to put away the gun.  I heard two shots and then nothing until the two of you showed up.”  He wiped the tears from his eyes.

“How serious was your relationship with Maggie?” Chloe asked.

“It wasn’t.  She asked me a couple of months ago to leave Kat, but I told her that wasn’t happening.”  He shifted on the sofa, allowing the paramedic to tend to his other wrist.  “She said she understood and we haven’t…ya know, since that point.  Things were just fine between the two of us.  At least, I thought they were.”  She nodded.

“I know you’re a defense lawyer,” she started carefully, “and a very good one at that.  Have you or your wife received any threats in the last few weeks?”

“I receive threats almost every day,” he answered dryly.  “Comes with the line of work.”  He shook his head.  “Nothing I would take seriously, though.  People need to express their anger and I’m a convenient target.”  Mr. Lloyd frowned as he looked between Chloe and Lucifer.  “Why do you ask?  I think it’s pretty clear what happened.”

“I just want to make sure we don’t miss anything,” she explained.

“Yes.  We wouldn’t want anyone coming back to finish the job, would we?” Lucifer added.  Chloe closed her eyes with a subtle roll.

“No,” Mr. Lloyd said slowly.  “We wouldn’t.  Look,” he started, “I don’t feel well and I have some calls to make.  Family, the museum.  My office.”

“Detective?” the paramedic interrupted.  “We really should get him to the hospital.”

“Yeah,” she breathed.  “Mr. Lloyd, I need you to stay reachable, in case I have more questions for you.”

“Of course.”  She and Lucifer remained in their places, quiet as the paramedic led Henry out of the house and to the ambulance.

“Detective Decker?”  An officer approached from the other side of the room, arm extended.  His hand held a piece of folded paper.  “We found this in the victim’s pocket.”  She pulled on a pair of gloves and took the paper.

“Thank you.”  Turning towards Lucifer, she unfolded the paper.  “It’s a suicide note.”  Adjusting his position, he stood behind her and read over her shoulder.  “A written confession of Mrs. Lloyd’s murder.”

“And what would have been Mr. Lloyd’s murder, had she not offed herself first.”  He frowned.  “’Together forever,’” he read.  “How cliché.”  She turned around and walked into the kitchen.  Carefully, she stepped over the small pool of blood where Johnson’s body had been and pointed to a hand-written note taped near the top of the freezer door.

“Grocery list.”  She lifted the note, holding next to the list.

“Hmm, the writing appears to be the same.”

“We’ll have to have it analyzed, but yeah, it looks like a match.”  Lucifer straightened his posture and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Would you like to hear what I think?”  Chloe turned to him.  “You know, my professional civilian consultant opinion.”

“Why not?” she replied.

“I think Mr. Lloyd is full of shit.”

“How insightful.”

“Tell me, Detective, do you think you could move an incapacitated me?  Without assistance?”  She raised an eyebrow, knowing where his thought was heading.

“No, I do not think I could.”

“Miss Pierson is thin, like you, though I think shorter.  Mr. Lloyd is close to my delightful height, yet a bit heavier.  If you could not move me, how do you suppose our black-haired beauty in the other room moved Mr. Lloyd?  Don’t get me wrong,” he smiled, “I have seen the feats of strength women are capable of achieving, truly incredible.”

“Way to cover your ass,” she interjected.

“Thank you,” he laughed lightly.  “So, she would have had to drug him, move him to her vehicle without anyone, including the wife, noticing, bring him here, unload him, again without gathering attention, bind and gag him, return to the Lloyd’s residence, shoot Mrs. Lloyd…”  He offered an overly dramatic sigh.  “Frankly, Detective, I’m exhausted just thinking about it.  And then to take her own life before…”  He huffed.  “Seems like a lot of unnecessary work to simply leave her lover in the closet.  Perhaps she is not entirely innocent in this situation, but I don’t believe she is the killer.”

“I agree,” Chloe nodded.

“Moreover, Mr. Lloyd was lying about hearing your fellow officer ask Miss Pierson to put away her weapon.”

“Yeah?” she smirked.  “How do you figure?”  He hummed a conceited little sound.

“Call it a feeling,” he smiled.  “Besides, if she would have drawn her weapon and had time to argue about doing so, would Officer Johnson have kept his holstered?”  Chloe couldn’t hold back the little amused laugh that escaped her lips as Lucifer joined his hands behind his back and rocked lightly on his heels.  “There is another player in this game, yes?” he asked excitedly.  “Did I get it right?”

“Yeah, I think you did,” she smiled.  “I am impressed, Lucifer Morningstar.  I guess your detective skill aren’t that bad after all.”

“Told you I was useful,” he said coyly.  “I think I deserve some type of reward for my correct answer.”

“Do you now?”

“Yep.” 

“All right.”  She nodded slowly.  “I want to talk to friends and family of the victims.  Maybe stop by the museum.  So how about I reward you by not locking you in the car at all today?”  He licked his lips.

“I was hoping you would say…”  He laughed gently when she rolled her eyes.  “Kidding.  Sort of,” he mumbled.  “What about not driving away without me?”

“Are we…are we negotiating your reward?”

“It would appear so.”

“Weird.”

“It is.”

“Well, I stand with not locking you in the car.”

“As annoying as that was, I _can_ get out of a locked vehicle, Detective.  Catching a ride, on the other hand, especially if you neglect to tell me where you’re headed…”

“One step at a time, Lucifer.”  He tipped his head to the side, releasing a slow breath as he considered her offer.

“Very well, Detective.”  He nodded.  “No locking me in the car.”

“Today.  I can’t make any promises for tomorrow.”

“Today,” he agreed.  A wide smile spread across his face.  “Fair is fair.  It isn’t as though you could leave without me anyway.”  He pulled her keys from his pocket and dangled them in the air.  “Remember?”

**Lucifer**

The daylight hours spent questioning the friends and family of the recently departed had been a colossal waste of time.  Maggie had no family, the only child of deceased parents, and very few friends.  She had lived in Los Angeles just under a year and in the eight months since her husband’s death, had become a bit of a recluse.  The friends she had stood in shock that Lucifer and the detective suspected the young woman of having an affair with Mr. Lloyd.  The group of three women described Maggie as a fiercely loyal friend, one who would not have betrayed Mrs. Lloyd in such a manner.  They also agreed that Maggie had been too raw, still heavily mourning her spouse’s passing, to have had any type of relationship with another man.

Mrs. Lloyd’s friends and family, far more numerous, could not offer anything useful to the case either.  Her closest friends and her sister had long suspected the husband guilty of infidelity and though it was not a subject discussed with Mrs. Lloyd, they had assumed she knew.  A couple of them believed there were many women involved over the entire course of the Lloyds’ fifteen-year marriage.  No one had an idea of who the mistresses may have been yet each was surprised at the mention of Maggie’s name.

“Shall we expect our next socialite to have heard of Mrs. Lloyd’s passing as well?” Lucifer asked as they walked through the dim, yellowed glow of the first floor hallway.  Chloe shrugged.

“They seem like a gossipy group,” she responded.  “I’d be very surprised if she didn’t know.”  He nodded and dropped his eyes, studying the floor as it passed beneath his feet.  He agreed with her assessment of the group, though the speed at which the news had spread genuinely surprised him.  And the fact that Maggie’s loved ones knew nothing of their friend’s death bothered him.

“Informing Maggie’s friends,” he started quietly.  “It wasn’t easy for you.”  She shook her head.

“It never is.”  They stopped at the elevator and she pressed her finger against the call button.

“Why?”  She turned to him, frowning slightly.  “I mean, I know _why_ but…”  He rolled his hand, unable to put words to his thoughts.  “For you.  It’s…”  She nodded her understanding.  She supposed until a person was in the position to make that type of announcement, especially from her point of view, there was no solid comprehension of the difficulty.

“Well, I know what it feels like to be on that side of the conversation,” she said as they entered the elevator.  She pressed the button for the third floor.

“Ahh,” he nodded.  “Your father.”

“Yeah.  It’s difficult not to put myself in their shoes,” she said quietly.  “To tell them someone they loved had died, especially in a brutal manner, and not…feel that pain.”  He nodded again.

“I’m sorry that you have to be in that position, Detective.”

“Someone has to do it, I suppose.”  The elevator doors opened to another warmly lit hallway.

“Well, I have no doubt there is some comfort in the compassion you can offer,” he said as they stepped out.  She offered a small smile in thanks.

“I’d like to think so.”  She offered another sigh as they followed the hallway around a corner and stopped at the first door on their left.  “These interviews are getting us nowhere,” she said as she knocked on the door.

“Now, now, Detective,” he started with a forced smile.  “Have a little faith.  I am certain this little interrogation will be…informative,” he offered weakly.

“For the sake of my sanity, I hope you’re right.”

“You mean _my_ sanity.”  He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt.  “ _I’m_ the one that has to work with you.”  Chloe narrowed her eyes at Lucifer as the door slowly opened, her expression clearly indicating they would be continuing that thought in the near future.  “Janine Casper?”

“Yes,” the woman answered.

“I’m Detective Decker.  This is my…partner, Mr. Morningstar.  We have some questions about Katrina Lloyd.”  Janine lifted her hand, dabbing a tissue beneath each eye.

“Of course,” she nodded.  “Please, come in.”  Lucifer followed Chloe into the apartment, immediately taking in the sharp lines, and silver and grey tones of the expensive, much-too-modern décor and furnishings.  All of the walls were white, each reflecting the crisp light of the fluorescent bulbs suspended from the ceiling.  The entire residence was a harsh contrast to the halls, sterile and entirely uninviting.  Janine led them to a large open area just left of the entry’s short hallway, motioning them towards the sofa.  “Such an awful way to start the morning,” she commented as she sat in a tall-backed chair across from the sofa.

“Yes,” Chloe nodded.  “We’re sorry for your loss.”  Janine accepted the sentiment with a small smile.  Her expression contradicted the anger and jealousy Lucifer sensed on her.  The feelings ran deep and were too consuming to hide from the devil.

“I must say,” she started, her tone cooling, “I am surprised you’re going around asking questions.”  Lucifer crossed his legs and slowly sat back, placing an arm along the back of the sofa behind Chloe’s shoulders.  She could feel the annoyance that radiated from off her partner’s form.  “You talked to Henry, didn’t you?”

“We did,” Chloe answered.

“Then you know what happened.”

“I just want to make sure we’re not missing anything before we officially close the case,” she said carefully.

“You should be spending your time arresting that asshole Henry for his part in all of this.”

“Henry’s part.”  Chloe nodded slowly.  “So you knew about the affair he was having with Maggie?”

“Oh, of course,” she answered.  Lucifer gently drummed his fingers on the back of Chloe’s shoulder.  She settled her hand on the cushion between them and gently flicked her finger against his thigh, silently asking him to remain quiet.  “I knew something was going on when…”  She sighed.  “I just knew.  Anyway, he should be arrested.”

“Did Katrina know?”

“If the way she fought with Maggie is anything to go by,” she huffed.  “They were constantly at each other’s throats.”  Lucifer tugged gently on Chloe’s hair.  Again, she pinged his thigh.

“Do you know when the affair started?”  Janine pursed her lips.

“Not long after Maggie began working for them.”  Lucifer tugged a little harder on Chloe’s hair as his excitement and impatience grew.  “So,” she started, folding her arms across her chest, “when are you going after him?”

“Why are you so adamant that we arrest Henry?” Chloe asked quickly.  “What aren’t you telling us?”

“Detective…Decker, was it?  If Henry wouldn’t have had the affair, Katrina would still be alive,” she said pointedly.  “Or doesn’t that matter?”  Lucifer drew his arm from the back of the sofa and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Janine,” he started sweetly, the smile spreading slowly across his face.  “Lying to a detective is a big no-no.”  A gentle, confused frown floated across her features.  “Tell me,” he drawled.  “Tell me all about Henry the Asshole.”

“Henry,” she said slowly.  His smile grew.

“C’mon, I know you want to.”

“He was supposed to be with me.  He loved _me_ , not Katrina.”  Lucifer sat back and smiled at Chloe who offered a roll of her eyes.  “Henry was going to leave Katrina.  We were going to get married.”

“What changed?” Chloe asked.

“Maggie,” Janine answered.  “Henry called off things with me and not too long after that I found out that Maggie was working for them.”  She shook her head.  “He could have had everything with me but he left me for a _housekeeper._ I wish she would have killed him, too.”

“Did he ever admit to the affair?”

“He denied it every time I asked about it.  Lying bastard,” she muttered.  “So you’re going to arrest him, right?”

“Okay.  I think we’re done here.”  Chloe stood.  “Thank you for your time.  We’ll show ourselves out.”  Lucifer stood and followed Chloe into the hallway, and amused grin on his face.  “It isn’t funny,” she said.

“On the contrary,” he chuckled.  “It is quite hilarious.”

“No, it’s not.”  She stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest, stopping his forward movement.  “Katrina Lloyd, an _innocent_ woman, lost her life today.  And the more I hear, the more I believe Maggie was innocent, too.  I don’t think she was having an affair.  And Johnson…”  She stepped into him.  “Three people, Lucifer, _three_ people died because Henry couldn’t keep it in his pants.”  She turned and stalked towards the bend in the hallway.

“Detective,” he called gently.  “Bloody hell,” he mumbled as she disappeared around the corner.  He followed with a quickened pace.  “Detective, I’m sorry.”  She ignored him and stabbed at the call button.  He took her arms, coaxing her to face him.  For a moment, her guard slipped, flashing a spark of something he couldn’t readily identify in her eyes.  “Truly.  I did not intend to make light of the situation.  It’s just that…apparently Henry has crossed quite the number of bridges.  And burned a few in the process.”  She sighed and nodded.  “Is Janine on your radar?”

“No,” Chloe responded.  “Clearly she’s jealous, but we’re right back to leaving the lover in the closet.”  They entered the elevator.  “Why go through all of the trouble and murder three people just to leave empty-handed?  Seems to me, if she intended to kill him, he’d be dead.  And without the pretense and the other victims.”  Lucifer nodded.  “On the other hand, if she really wanted a relationship, I think she would have been able to talk him into one.  She’s obviously someone who’s use to getting what she wants, when she wants it.”

“Yes,” he agreed.  “She is irritatingly _very_ spoiled.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” she said flatly.

“Funny.”  She stepped out of the elevator and he trailed, nearly on her heels.  “I am _not_ spoiled,” he argued emphatically.  “Not in the slightest.”

“Really.”  Chloe stopped walking and folded her arms.

“Really,” he scoffed, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.  “Unlike Janine, I _appreciate_ what I have.”  He cleared his throat.  “And who.”  She huffed an incredulous laugh and shook her head.  “I’d be happy to show you just how much appreciation I have if you need proof, Detective.”

“No, I’ll just take your word for it.”

“Pity.”  He continued down the hallway and opened the entry door for her.  “Well, you know where to find me when you change your mind,” he said as she passed.

“That’s not going to happen.”  She reached into her pocket when her phone buzzed.  “Give me just a minute.”  Lucifer granted her the privacy she wanted, remaining on the front walk as she moved towards her vehicle, phone pressed to her ear.  The day’s fruitless questioning had been disappointing at best to Lucifer.  Halfway through the interviews, he had been ready to bow out of the boring investigation, thinking he would rejoin the efforts when the action picked up.  Yet at the same time, he had noticed a change in the detective.  She had been frustrated throughout the morning over the lacking case, and he understood.  After all, playing by the human rules made finding and punishing the guilty much harder than it need to be.  However, the shift he had encountered in her was not exasperation. 

Lucifer focused his attention on Chloe as her short conversation ended.  She shoved the phone into her coat pocket and leaned back against the driver’s door.  The frown that had etched her face most of the morning started to soften as her gaze became distant, leaving in its wake an expression of defeat.  Defeat.  That is what he had noticed earlier in the day and again as they had waited for the elevator.  Though not towards the case.  It was deeper, personal, he presumed.  Chloe dropped her head; she kicked gently at the concrete with the toe of her boot.  He wanted to know what existed behind the walls she constantly maintained, to see who she was when she believed no one was watching.  He was content to keep the distance between them, to take the opportunity to further study the beautiful detective.  Until she suddenly spun and slammed her palm against the frame of the car’s door.  His lips parted slightly in surprise and he made his way to her with a cautious quickness.

“Rough day at the office, Love?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine,” she replied quietly.

“Detective?”  She tipped her head to the side, acknowledging that he had spoken, but did not say anything.  When it was clear she was not going to turn around and face him, Lucifer placed his left hand on her right hip and guided her into the motion.  She should have argued, should have protested because she was not quick enough to force back the well of tears developing in her eyes.  “Detective.”  Her title left his lips in a soft whisper as the tears trickled over her lashes.  “Who called?”

“Dan,” she answered.

“And what sort of admonishment is he offering today?”  She shook her head.

“He just wanted to know how the interviews were going.”  He hummed lightly.

“Right.  Along with the friendly, pressured reminder to quickly close this case?”

“Yeah.”

“Someday you are going to explain to me Detective Douche’s need to nose into your investigations.  I have many, _many_ questions regarding that topic.”  The fingers of his free hand curled under her jaw.  “Right now, I want to know why you’re crying.”  He lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his.  “Did something happen with the spawn?”

“No.”  She blinked away the last few tears and took a deep breath.  “I’m just…It’s nothing.”

“Did the douche say something to cause this?” he asked, wiping the tears from her cheek.  She shook her head and he opened his mouth, ready to call out her lie.

“Not now, Lucifer.  Please?”  His dark eyes held her pale ones as he tried to see beyond what she projected, to catch the spark he had witnessed earlier.  She was practiced, however; effective at hiding what swirled beneath the surface, despite the recent slip of tears.  Had she been any other human, he would have pushed, would have reached as far into her as he pleased to find his answers.  But she wasn’t any other human.  He could not take what he wanted from her and he knew a barrage of conversational questioning would only drive her farther into herself, regressing any prospect of studying her.  He frowned and silently promised himself he would find a better way into this conversation.

“Very well,” he conceded with a sigh.  “What’s next?” he asked as he released his hold of her.

“As social as she seemed to be, Mrs. Lloyd was apparently a very private person.”  She nodded slowly.  “You were right about the journals; they may be the only place we find answers.”

“Ah, then to the station we go,” he smiled. 

“Last stop for the day; I promise.”

“No, no, no.”  He quickly reached for her, placing both hands on her hips to keep her from turning towards the car.  “What happened to going to mine to read through the journals?”

“Lucifer,” she started sweetly.  “I told you we can do that at the station.”

“Detective,” he whined.

“It’ll be fun,” she explained excitedly.  “We’ll raid the vending machine, drink lots of poorly brewed coffee – that’s our department’s specialty – and then…”  She started laughing as he rolled his eyes and let his head drop heavily.

“Is this how it ends?  Am I to die of boredom?”  He pulled her keys from his pocket.  “You are sucking the immortality right out of me, Detective.”  Taking her wrist, he lifted her hand and purposefully placed the keys on her palm.  His eyes narrowed as her fingers curled around the items.  “Can I trust you with these?”

“Do you have a reason not to?” she asked innocently.

“Detective,” he warned lightly.

“Get in the car, Lucifer,” she chuckled.

“Get in the car, Lucifer,” he mocked.  “Keep your mouth shut, Lucifer.  Don’t touch that, Lucifer.”  He shook his head as he rounded the front of the vehicle.  “Are you _always_ going to spoil my fun?”

“Hmm, yeah, I think so,” she teased as she opened the driver’s door and slipped onto the seat.  She closed the door and waited until his fingers started to wrap around the handle of the passenger door.  “Oops,” she breathed as her fingers pushed the lock button.

“Detective!” he yelled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four, also known as "Lucifer is kind of (very much) a dick." I was in a mood... Thank you to all who have stopped by!

Lucifer pulled the edges of his suitcoat together, fastening the singular button.  He shoved one hand into his pocket, lifted the other to take the cigarette from his mouth as he leisurely walked across the near-empty parking lot of the precinct.  The temperature had fallen steadily during the afternoon hours, causing the increased dampness in the air to take on a cool and uncomfortable clammy feeling.  His eyes flicked upwards, searching the overcast sky for immediate signs of rain.  The dirty-white clouds that floated overhead were wispy and not at all intimidating.  They held the potential for nothing more than a light sprinkling of water over the city.  The thick, dark grey clouds to the north, however, promised a much more thorough soaking, and sooner rather than later.

Lifting the cigarette to his mouth for a long, slow drag, he leveled his gaze and stopped walking.  Neither degree of storm cloud compared to the threatening presence of the woman he left in the car.  He had not played fairly; he would admit that.  Though only if asked.  Repeatedly.  Lucifer was no fool; he knew Chloe would jump at the chance to lock him out of her vehicle.  He had teased with his choice of words – _“Can I trust you with these?”_ – with the narrowing of his eyes, and had purposely drawn out the insolence with the manner in which he had placed the keys in her hand.  He dropped his cigarette, twisted the bottom of his shoe over it and turned back to the detective’s car.

He was going to pay for what he had done.

Chloe had laughed, had kidded him for his misstep in trusting her with the keys.  He had played along, pretending to be annoyed that she had bested him.  He was proud of himself for having allowed the playful ribbing, with reasons that were purely selfless.  He had simply wanted to take the detective’s mind off the conversation she had shared with Detective Douche.  His reasons _somewhat_ selfless.  If anyone was going to be responsible for distracting Chloe from her ex and putting a lovely smile on her face, he preferred to be the one.  Half selfless, half selfish.  After all, there had to have been a myriad of other things on which he could have focused her attention, but he wanted to be the subject.

Yes, he was going to pay, but he had no apologies; the game they were playing was worth every bit of wrath he was due.

Lieutenant Monroe had called just as Chloe had parked the vehicle in the station’s side lot.  He had pulled a gold cigarette case and a lighter from his pocket, holding them for show as he had pointed towards the door.  Chloe had nodded her understanding and had continued with the call, shifting the phone from her left ear to her right.

It really had been too easy.

Looking down, Lucifer regarded the key fob resting comfortably between his thumb and index finger.

Oh, he was going to pay _dearly_.

The detective had not noticed he had pilfered the keys until he was a fair distance from the vehicle.  In her scramble to open the door before he could lock it, she had dropped the phone.  He had chuckled lightly as she had graced him with a look of fury only the devil could rival.  She had returned to the call, muttering apologies to Monroe between cursing and yelling his name.  Lucifer lifted his eyes, again looking towards the vehicle.  The phone was no longer in sight and he met the detective’s scowl, staring her down with a wicked smile on his face.  He lifted the keys, his eyes never leaving hers, and pressed the button to unlock the doors.  With a low laugh, he turned and started towards the building.

“Son of a bitch, Lucifer!”  Chloe’s heeled boots clicked against the concrete as she jogged towards him, trying to catch up to his longer strides.  “Lucifer, stop!”  He turned towards her, slowly walking backwards, taunting her with his satisfied smile.  “Lucifer, it was a joke,” she explained.

“And not a very funny one at that,” he stated.

“Come on.”

“Thought you could pull one over on me, did you?”  His laugh earned another angry glare. 

“Give me the keys, Lucifer.”

“It’s starting to drizzle, Detective,” he stated, slowing his pace as she neared him.  “Why don’t we head inside where we’ll stay nice and dry, hmm?”  She sped through the last few steps and grabbed the collar of his shirt, forcing him to stop walking.  “Ooh, I _so_ enjoy your feisty side,” he smiled teasingly.

“Hand them over.”

“Nope.”  She clenched her jaw as the consonant popped off his lips.

“Give me the keys,” she repeated slowly.  As she reached for his hand, he lifted his arm, holding the keys above his head.  She jumped, all but climbing him like a tree, her fingertips skimming the bottom of his wrist.

“Ooh, almost.”  He dropped his hand and stuffed the keys into his pocket.  “You want them, come and get them,” he challenged.  She growled and yanked on his shirt, pulling his face to her level.

“I hate you,” she bit.  His eyes dropped to her mouth and he ran the tip of his tongue across the edge of his top teeth.

“Liar.”

“Prick.”  Lucifer laughed as Chloe pushed him back a step and stalked into the building.  He silently followed, releasing only a soft ‘oh’ as the air inside instantly struck him.  It was colder than the air outside, and much drier.  The lobby was rather loud as various groups of officers and employees filed between the doors and the elevators, some looking to shed the filth of the workday, others just diving in.  Lucifer waited patiently behind Chloe as a handful of people shuffled out of the elevator.  The hustle of bodies allowed the pair to slip into the car without company.  Once inside and safely ensconced in the privacy of the lift, Chloe turned to Lucifer, her expression neutral but her eyes…

Lucifer recognized the mischief in her eyes.  He was well aware of her little tactic, having watched her work her magic at the Players’ After Party, innocent and charming, playful.  Not to mention he himself had twice been a victim of her scheming.  Though he supposed the first time, when she so deftly glided to his side, hands roaming beneath his clothing as she searched for a bulletproof vest, did not count.  After all, they had just met and had known very little about each other.  _Fool me once, Detective,_ he mused as he clasped his hand in front of his body and calmly leaned back into the corner.  Lucifer kept the amusement from his features as she slowly moved through the few steps that separated them.  Her eyes grew darker as she neared and the bottom corner of her lip disappeared between her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” she started quietly as she stopped a half step in front of him.  She lifted her hands to the open collar of his shirt and evened the fold.  “For locking you out of the car.”  Her eyes, full of a naughty mirth, met his as her fingers followed the separated hems of the fabric downwards to the first secured button.

“Are you?” he asked evenly.  She nodded and placed her hands over his, gently pulling his fingers from their lock.  He let his arms fall to his sides and held her gaze as she switched tasks and freed the button of his suitcoat.

“Very sorry.”  Her hands slid inside the garment, roaming softly over his sides until they settled just above his hips.  She lifted herself on her toes and leaned into him.  “Forgive me?” she whispered over his mouth.  Her hands slipped lower, fingers poised at the opening of his pants pockets.  “Please?”  Before she could make her move and rescue her keys, Lucifer quickly reversed their positions and used the length of his body to press her into the corner.  He securely held her wrists, pinning her arms to the walls to either side of her head.  He had not allowed the minuscule distance between their mouths to waver and as he straightened to his full height, he used the proximity to lift her chin.

“Tempting the devil is a very dangerous game, Detective.”  His voice was quiet, threatening and sensual as he returned the favor of whispering his words against her lips.  “I don’t think even once before giving in.”  Her shallow breathing caught in her throat and her eyes fluttered to a close as he pushed through the last ounce of space between them and teased her lips apart with a gentle brush of his mouth.  As the elevator door opened behind him, he released her, smirking to himself before wandering into the darkened squad room.

Chloe’s hand curled around the edge of the elevator door, preventing it from closing, as Lucifer took residence in the chair behind her desk, leaning back with his legs crossed and his hands dangling comfortably from the arms of the chair.  He watched with obvious admiration as she approached.  She was not as unaffected by him as either of them believed.  _He_ put the falter in her steps, the fiery blush of pink across her cheeks.  _He_ caused the uneven rhythm of her breathing, the look of charged confusion of sexual want on her face.  And he knew the man watching from the shadows across the room caught every bit of it.

“You,” Chloe breathed, her eyes narrowing with anger.  She rounded the desk and smacked a hand across the back of his head.  He lifted his hands and batted hers away.

“What was that for?” he asked, unable to keep the giggle out of his voice.

“You know very well,” she replied.

“Well, you started it.”  Reaching around him, she punched a few buttons on the laptop.

“Stay here,” she instructed.  “Read this.”

“What is it?”

“Mrs. Lloyd’s journals.”

“Oh,” he smiled.  “Direct to digital, eh?”

“Yeah.  I’ll be back.”  He turned the chair as he followed her movement around the desk.

“Where are you going?”  A sly smile spread across his face.  “Need to get me out of your system, Detective?  I _can_ help with that, you know.”

“Shut up.”  Shaking her head, she quickly walked away.  Lucifer laughed lightly and turned towards the laptop.  He leaned his forearms on the desk as his eyes skimmed the screen.  He took in a word here, a word there, studied the rough drawing of what he believed to be a chicken on the side of the page, but his interest was simply pretext.  His eyes flicked across the room, watching as Chloe rounded the corner of the hallway, disappearing from sight and out of range to hear the conversation he was about to have.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Lucifer drawled quietly.  The man from the shadows approached the desk, his pace slow and the shake of his head incredulous.  Lucifer laced his fingers and rested his hands on the desk.  He met the blue eyes of the man and smiled at the anger presented in his body language as his arms folded across his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“Daniel,” Lucifer sighed happily.  “How nice of you to stop by.”

“Cut the shit, Lucifer.  What are you doing?” he repeated.

“Oh just fulfilling my duties as a civilian consultant,” he answered.  “Browsing through the recently departed’s diaries.”  He leaned back in the chair, dropping his hands to his lap as he crossed his legs.  “It’s really quite boring but Detective Decker seems to think we’ll find something useful.”

“Does she?” he asked flatly.  Lucifer let a gently surprised look cross his face.

“You sound doubtful.”

“I am,” he assured.

“Well, the detective may not be one to say ‘I told you so’, but I am.”  He smiled.  “So when her intuition proves correct, expect me to stop by and gloat.”  Lucifer stood slowly, placing one hand in his pocket as the other flippantly motioned towards Dan.  “That’s not what you want to talk about though.”  He smiled knowingly.  “Is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Tell me, Detective Douche,” he started, dragging out the offensive name.  “What do _you_ think I’m doing?”  Dan shook his head and rolled his eyes.  “Oh, come now,” Lucifer laughed.  “Put those detective skills to work, old chap!”

“I think you have something going on with my wife.”

“Mm.  You forgot an important part of that sentence, Daniel.  Ex,” he stated.

“Separated,” he corrected.  “We’re not divorced.”

“Yet.  Ex.”  He sighed contently with the repetition.  “Just…rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it?” he asked, rolling his wrist to emphasize his words.  Dan huffed a laugh and ran his thumb across his bottom lip as he nodded slowly.

“That’s how you’re going to play, huh?  She’s not around, Lucifer,” he said, spreading his arms.  “It’s just you and me.  Now’s your chance to get it all out.”  Lucifer offered a genuine smile, slipping his free hand into his pocket as he slowly walked to the front of the desk.  “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“The smart ass remark I know you want to throw in my face.”

“Ah, you mean the smart ass remark in which I say the word rolls right off the tongue…”  His smile fell, his expression dark and taunting.  “Just like Detective Decker rolls right off _my_ tongue.”  Dan met the devil’s stare.

“That’s the one.”  They held each other’s vicious gaze for a long moment, neither speaking as tempers began to rise.  Dan’s breathing turned shallow but his features remained unyielding to the anger bubbling inside.  Lucifer’s lips parted slight, his eyebrow rose, daring the detective to make his move, to counter the lewd comment.  He knew the opposition would not be verbal; Dan seemed the fighting type.  It had been too long since Lucifer was involved in a good old-fashioned fistfight with a human.

“I cannot in all honesty make such a statement,” he started quietly, “as I have yet to kiss the detective.”

“Bullshit.  What was going on in the elevator?  She looked like…like you two…”  He shook his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  “You know what she looked like.”  Lucifer smiled proudly.

“Yes, I know very well what she looked like.”  He chuckled lowly.  “Where I can, and I most certainly _do_ , take credit for the appearance, it does not change the fact that I have not kissed her.”  Dan took a slow deep breath.  “You don’t…”  Lucifer placed a hand on his chest, mocking hurt feelings.  “You don’t believe me, do you?  Well, you can always ask her yourself.”  He tipped his head and returned his hand to his pocket.  “Though I doubt she’ll look favorably on you butting into her business.”

“What about the other morning?  I caught you at her house, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.”  Lucifer shook his head.  “I was simply making breakfast, trying to do something nice for her.  Maybe you should try it sometime.  No,” he quickly added, holding up a finger.  “On second thought, don’t.  The sooner you’re out of the picture, well, all the better for me.”  Dan’s hands clenched at his sides as he shook his head.

“Chloe won’t fall for your playboy shtick.”

“Playboy…shtick,” he repeated with amusement, mulling over the words.  “I’m curious,” he started with a frown.  “You have had sex with her.  Has she ever looked like that after…well, at _any_ point during your escapades?”  He smiled and winked.

“I cannot believe you are seriously asking that question.”

“Which means ‘no’,” he said quickly.  “How does it feel, hmm?” he asked as he stepped closer.  “How does it feel knowing she’s never looked like that after experiencing _all_ of _you_ , but after nothing more than a short trip in the lift with _me_ , she looks deliciously rapt?  Maybe my playboy shtick is _exactly_ what she desires.”  He taunted with a wiggle of his eyebrows.  “Jealous?”

“You’re an ass.”

“So I’ve been told.”  Lucifer stepped forward again, solidifying eye contact as only the devil could.  “What did you do to her, Daniel?” he asked softly.

“I, uh…”  Dan shook his head.  “I didn’t…do anything,” he stammered.

“Come now, Daniel,” he continued, reaching deeper into the male detective.  “You did _something_ to fall out of Detective Decker’s good graces.  What was it, hmm?”

“No…I just…”

“Don’t be shy,” he laughed lightly.  “I know you want to tell me.”

“What the hell are the two of you doing?” Chloe asked as she neared the pair.

“Talking about you,” Lucifer answered as he stepped back.

“The case,” Dan amended, blinking away the fog of Lucifer’s effect.  “We were talking about the case.”

“And all the while having a staring contest?”  She tugged on the sleeve of Lucifer’s suitcoat.  “Knock it off.”  He tipped his head, smiled at Dan and followed Chloe to the other side of the desk.

“This case is open-and-shut, Chloe.  You need to close it.  Now.”

“I’ll close it when I’m ready to close it, Dan.”  She placed a second laptop on the desk and crossed her arms defiantly.  “Find anything?” she asked Lucifer.

“ _This_ is rather peculiar,” he answered as he pointed at the screen of her laptop.  She leaned her palms on the desk, narrowing her eyes as she focused on the screen.

“That _is_ peculiar.”  She nodded and straightened.  “Good find, partner.”

“Thank you.”

“Chloe, take the advice,” Dan started as he backed away from her desk.  “Close the case.  And lose him.”  Lucifer watched with an amused grin as Dan disappeared from view.

“This is an open-and-shut case,” he mocked.  “What type of bug crawled up his backside this time?” he asked, turning back to her.  “Or is the good old Palmetto bug still wreaking havoc?”  She nodded.  “Is he ever going to let that go?”

“I don’t think anyone is.”  She released a long, slow breath as she placed her hands on her hips.  Her eyes narrowed as she studied him.  “What did you say to him?”

“Why do you assume _I_ said something?”

“Were you or were you not the one egging him on this morning, right here in front of my desk?”

“Yes, well.”  He cleared his throat.  “I did not say anything this time.  He slithered from the shadows as soon as you were out of the area and started spewing false accusations in my directions.  I was entirely innocent.”  He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes slightly as he nodded in concession.  “In the beginning, at least.  Story of my life,” he mumbled.  “Detective, if ever there was a reason to finish perusing the journals someplace not here…”

“Yeah.”  She powered down the laptop and folded the unit.  “I would rather not do this with Dan watching over our shoulders.”  Lucifer pulled her backpack from under the desk and held it open as she placed both devices inside.

“Then which is it, yours or mine?”  He nudged her arm with his elbow.  “Mine is closer.  And there are no little monsters running rampant.”

“My daughter is not a monster, Lucifer.  Well, most days.”  She nodded.  “Fine.  Yours it is.”

“Splendid!”  Chloe smiled gently and settled the strap of the backpack over her shoulder.  She moved towards the elevator, Lucifer following, and started to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You.”

“Oh?  Do share.”

“I thought you didn’t lie.”

“I don’t,” he defended earnestly.

“I asked if you found anything, you said you did.  But what you pointed out wasn’t really anything.”

“You didn’t specify what type of finding,” he explained.  “The odd little doodle of a chicken _is_ a find.”  He shrugged.  “Of sorts.”

“That wasn’t a chicken,” she laughed.

“No?”

“No.  It was a turtle.”  She scrunched her face.  “At least, I think it was.”

**Lucifer**

Lucifer moved smoothly through the dimly lit penthouse, a partially filled glass tumbler in each hand, and stopped in front of Chloe where she sat on the leather-covered sofa.  Some time ago, she had pulled her legs onto the cushion, knees bent and out, ankles crossed in the middle, cradling the laptop across her calves.  Her elbows rested on her knees, forming the base of the triangle she had created with her arms.  Her hands formed the peak, supporting her forehead as she leaned over the device.  Lucifer extended his arm towards Chloe.  He lifted a finger from the tumbler and gently brushed the digit along the back of her hand.  She looked up, her eyes wide.

“Sorry,” he smiled lightly.  “Didn’t mean to startle you.”  She half-heartedly returned his smile and closed her fingers around the glass, accepting with a soft hum of thanks.  Lucifer sat in the middle of the sofa, crossing his legs as he settled the left side of his body against the back of the piece of furniture, his left arm along the top of the frame.  He look a slow sip of his drink as he stared at Chloe.  Her fingers gently tapped the side of the glass as her attention returned to the laptop.  Both of them had taken to the task of reading the journals, quickly becoming engrossed in the entries.  She had grown very quiet shortly after they had started, but it wasn’t her silence that bothered Lucifer.  It was her physical shift away from him.  He was sitting nearly in the same spot as he started the evening.  Chloe had moved from her rather chummy position next to him, the proximity necessary as they compared notes, pulling herself closer to the end of the sofa.  Her hair had fallen from its tucked position behind her ear and had gradually covered her face.  He knew she was withdrawing, hiding.  “You’ve been quiet,” he started gently.  She lifted her head, but did not look at him.

“Yeah,” she breathed.  “Sorry.  I guess I’m just…wrapped up in these journals.”  She sighed, rubbed a hand over her tired eyes and leaned forward, placing her glass on the floor.  He hummed lightly, tapped his fingers on the sofa’s frame.  He switched the tumbler to his left hand and suddenly reached towards her, pulling the device from her lap.  Turning slightly as he sat back, he reached to the cushion behind him to deposit the laptop next to his.

“Lucifer.”  She bowed to her right, planting a hand in the space between them to steady her balance as her other hand chased after the laptop.  He caught her wrist as he turned back to her.  His eyes dropped to the hand keeping her upright and he smiled.

“Come a little closer, Detective.”  Lifting his gaze to her eyes, he chuckled softly.  “I don’t bite.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”  Chloe pulled herself from his hold and righted herself.

“This is all rather depressing,” he started.  “Mrs. Lloyd was _incredibly_ unhappy.”  She nodded.  “Yet she stayed with a man that didn’t love her.”

“She did,” she responded as she looked away.

“Did _you_ do this?” he asked, indicating the laptops with a tip of his head.  “Did you waffle between staying and leaving as Mrs. Lloyd did?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Lucifer.”  She drummed her fingers on her knee.  “She knew about every affair her husband had,” she said, turning to him.  “She mentions names in everything I’ve read.”

“In what I read, as well,” he nodded.

“I didn’t see Maggie’s name, though.”

“Nor did I.  At least, not in that sense.  Seems Maggie was the only true confidant Mrs. Lloyd had.”

“Yeah.”

“The whole want of children,” he began, “was quite a bone of contention between them.  She wanted, he did not.”

“Sounds like he wouldn’t even discuss the idea with her.”  Lucifer uncrossed his legs, leaning his elbows on his knees, the glass safely between both hands.

“How do you humans do it?” he asked.  “ _Why_ do it?”

“Do what?”

“Put yourselves through these ridiculous emotional entanglements?  Why fall in love?  Why get married?  And the worst of all, why have _children_?”  She breathed a little laugh at the narrowing of his eyes.  “I am completely baffled by the desire to procreate.  You’re all insane as far as I’m concerned.”  He took another drink.  “You said your offspring was planned.  ‘Kind of.’  Did you not want children?”

“I wanted kids,” she replied with a nod.  “A whole litter of them.”  A sad smile floated briefly across her lips.

“And Detective Douche?”

“He did, too.  Just not as many I as did.  Trixie came earlier than we had planned, but he was happy.  I was happy.  Then the job got in the way and never really…”  She shrugged.  “We never talked about having another baby.”  He nodded slowly as she bent forward to retrieve her tumbler.

“You blame yourself, don’t you?  For whatever it was that happened between the two of you.  I’m genuinely curious,” he explained at her eye roll.  “Why didn’t you leave when things changed?”

“It isn’t that easy, Lucifer.”  She lifted the glass to her lips, taking nearly half its contents in one swallow.

“Why not?”

“Marriage is kind of a serious thing,” she answered sarcastically.  “When you love someone so much that you promise to spend the rest of your life by that person’s side…”  She sighed and finished her drink.  “It’s hard to admit that’s over, to think that love you had may not have been real.”  She stood and moved towards the bar.

“I, for one, have always been against the idea of marriage.”  He joined her side as she placed her glass on the countertop.  “It is such an inconvenient pain in the ass.”  Chloe tipped her head to the side.

“Is there a _convenient_ type of pain in the ass?”

“Did you try to make things work with Detective Douche?”  He slipped his hands into his pockets. 

“Of course I did.”

“Then why do you blame yourself?”  Chloe took a step back and swallowed thickly.  “You are not responsible for his choices.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about this, Lucifer,” she said as she walked away.

“It’s a simple question, Detective.”  He followed her back to the sofa.  “Why do you blame yourself?”

“I don’t know,” she bit.  “I just…”  She turned to look at him.  “Sometimes I wonder if I really did everything possible to save our marriage.  I wonder if there was something more I could have done, something I could have changed—”

“Something?” he interrupted.  “Or do you mean yourself?  You shouldn’t have to change to make someone happy.”

“No,” she agreed quietly.  “I know that.  But people change over time.”

“Right,” he nodded.  “Change that should be shared within the union.  You know, growing stronger with time and all of that gibberish.”

“Yeah.”  Lucifer mentally replayed the conversation with Dan.  If he would have had one more minute with the man before Chloe had interrupted, he was certain he would have had an answer as to why they had separated.  As with all things that involved the detective, he would not so easily fulfill his curiosities.

“What changed for the two of you?” he pressed.  “Is the job _really_ what wedged itself into your happy little family?”  Chloe bit at the inside of her cheek.

“We have a case to solve, Lucifer, and we haven’t found any useful answers,” she started, changing the subject.  “I want to finish reading the journals.”

“I know.”  He shook his head and gently took her arm as she moved to grab the laptop.  “You’re not reading anymore.”

“Lucifer—”

“Detective.”

“I’m not doing this with you, Lucifer.”  She shook her head.  “We are _not_ discussing it.”

“This is bothering you much more than it should for someone who is supposed to be as impartial as possible.  I think we should—”  He released her arm and turned towards the giggling coming from the elevator.  “Maze?”  She smiled widely as she entered the penthouse.

“Oh, Lucifer,” she sang playfully.  “I have someone who wants to meet you before we open the club.”  She snaked her arm around the waist of the tall, blonde woman that accompanied her.  “Mindy, Lucifer.  Lucifer, Mindy.”

“Well, it certainly is a pleasure to meet you, Mindy,” he smiled politely.  “And thank you, Maze, but I _am_ rather busy.  You’re interrupting important police work.”  The demon’s smile fell as she looked past Lucifer and to Chloe.  Humming thoughtfully, she let her gaze rake over the detective’s form.

“I suppose she can join.”  She smiled sharply and licked the corner of her lips.  “The more the merrier, right?”

“I’ll pass,” Chloe responded quietly.  Lucifer frowned at the soft tremor he heard beneath her words and turned towards her.  Despite the dim lighting of his dwelling, he could see her complexion had paled.  A gentle frown of confusion knit her brow as she directed an almost vacant gaze towards Maze.

“Detective?” he called carefully as he stepped towards her.  “You look rather pallid.  Are you all right?”  She blinked several times and turned her eyes to Lucifer.

“What?”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”  She joined her hands, wringing her fingers as she nodded.  “I’m fine.”  His eyes dropped to the movement of her fingers, watching as she pulled the shirtsleeves over her hands.

“Detective—”

“I should go.”  She pulled her bag from the floor and shoved the laptops inside.

“Wait, please.  I—”

“Trixie’s sitter can’t stay late tonight.”  She pulled the bag’s strap over her shoulder.  “See you tomorrow?”  He sighed quietly and nodded.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great.  Good night, Lucifer.”  He turned as his eyes followed her short walk to the elevator, her path widening with unnecessary distance as she passed the pair of females.

“Oh, too bad,” Maze pouted as the elevator doors closed.  “Could have been fun.”  Lucifer hummed absently as he continued to stare at the lift.  “Are you coming?” she asked, starting towards his bedroom.  He slowly shook his head.

“No, Maze.  Not tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean not tonight,” he said sternly as he looked at her.  “I’m going to take a walk.  But by all means,” he started, gesturing towards Mindy.  “Enjoy yourself.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and the comments! My love to y'all!

“And it bothers you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”  Linda adjusted her glasses, watching carefully as Lucifer searched for an answer to her question.  He wove his fingers, tapped the digits on the backs of his hands.  He frowned then quirked an eyebrow; opened his mouth then closed it before any words could escape.  He shook his head then met her gaze, eyes narrowing as he mulled over his thoughts.  After a moment, he answered with a soft yet exasperated sigh as he sank against the generously padded back of the sofa.

“I don’t bloody know,” he replied quietly.

“The last time we talked about the detective, we discussed getting to know her.”  He nodded.  “Have you?”

“I suppose.  I mean, we haven’t spent that much time together since our talk, but our rapport seems…smoother.  She is a bit less reluctant to have me around.”  He shrugged gently.  “Of course, we’ve only just begun our first official case together.”

“Right.  Civilian Consultant.”

“At your service,” he smiled.

“This position no doubt gives you both an excellent avenue to learn about each other.”

“It does,” he agreed slowly.  “I’m sensing a ‘however’, Doctor.”  Linda took a breath and slowly released it.

“I’m…I’m concerned,” she started.  “About your big plan to uh, oh, how did you put it?”  She tapped the tip of her pen on her notebook.  “To ‘lose interest’ by sleeping with her.”

“I see.”  He paused for a moment then raised his eyebrows.  “Why?”

“Well, for two reasons.  First…Lucifer, there’s a large amount of trust between partners.  Lives depend on officers’ abilities to work together.”

“And?”  She tipped her head to the side.  “Ah,” he nodded.  “You believe achieving my ‘big plan’, as you so nicely put it, may compromise her safety.”

“Yes.  And yours.”  He waved a hand.

“No mind to me; Devil, immortal.”  He smiled.  “What’s your other reason?”

“Lucifer.”  Linda sighed and rubbed the tips of her fingers across her forehead.  “I’m worried that the ‘one and done’ may…may be more of a problem for you _personally_ then you realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“What about the detective catches your fancy?”  He hummed lightly and crossed his legs.

“Everything,” he answered honestly.  “She’s different and I’m intrigued.”

“Different how?”

“I cannot…connect with her as I can other humans.  I can get around the walls and the lies people tell themselves, but the detective…”  He shook his head.  “I can’t get around her walls.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Well, it’s irritating as all get up,” he chuckled softly.  “Yet fascinating all the same.”

“If you _could_ connect with her as you do others, if you _were_ able to see over her walls, do you think you would still be bothered by her situation?”  Lucifer leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.  He templed his fingers and slowly tapped the tips in succession.

“Odd,” he frowned.  “I think I would but…I don’t understand.  I’ve _never_ been troubled over such nonsense before; I honestly don’t care.”

“But you do when it involves Chloe?”

“Yes.”

“Because it bothers you.”

“Yes.”

“Then let me ask again, why?”  Lucifer frowned.

“Really?”

“Really.”  Linda set her notebook and pen on the floor and shifted to the front of the chair’s cushion.  “Lucifer, by your own admission, you’ve never had anyone in your life who has elicited this type of…reaction.  You’ve never _cared_ about another person in such a manner.”  He huffed a laugh.

“She’s a mystery to me, nothing more, Doctor.  No matter how you twist it.”

“I’m not twisting anything.  I’m simply repeating what you’re explaining.”  She took a deep breath and slowly released it.  “Your concern _isn’t_ over the details of the detective’s issues with her husband.  Your concern is how it’s affecting her.  Your concern _isn’t_ over the fact that she’s having nightmares.  Your concern is how it’s _affecting_ her.”  He leaned back against the couch again and turned his attention away from Linda.  “She’s…special to you.  You _care_ about _her_.  This is a good thing, Lucifer,” she said as he rolled his eyes.  “Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to throw away this opportunity.”

“The devil doesn’t _care_ about anyone, Doctor.”  He stood and smoothed a hand over the front of his suitcoat.  “I must be going; homicide cases don’t solve themselves.’

**Lucifer**

“I’ll do what I can, Lieutenant, but it isn’t going to be easy.”  Dan shook his head.  “You know how bullheaded Chloe can be.  And it’s not like she has a reason to listen to me.”  Olivia nodded as she sat back in her chair.

“I know,” she acknowledged.  “Dan, I’m sorry you’re in this position.  I truly am.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“No, you didn’t.  But this is important.  You’re in and you’re trusted.  Do you know what happens if we lose that?”

“Yeah.”  He sighed and leaned forward.  Resting his elbows on his knees, he drew his hands over his face.  “More innocent people die.”

“Yeah.”  Olivia sat forward, placing her forearms on her desk.  “We’ve come so far because of you.  The list of names is unfortunately growing, but…fortunately growing.  You’re identifying the problem children and soon we’ll be able to arrest all of them.”

“Not all of them,” he corrected.  “With Malcolm in a coma…there are things I don’t know, things I _won’t_ know unless he wakes up.”  He met his lieutenant’s eyes.  “And I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“We’ll get the ones we can get,” she offered gently.  “There’s bound to be a few that will flip on the others when the pressure’s turned up.”  He nodded.  She stood and pulled her jacket from the back of her chair.  “I have meetings for the rest of the day,” she started.  “I would really like this case closed today and Chloe’s report on my desk by morning.  Push it, as much as you can.”

“I will.  Thank you.”  Dan stood and left the office.  He ran a hand over his chin as he looked to his right, towards his estranged wife’s desk.  Chloe’s elbows rested on the desktop, her hands cradling her head as she stared down at her laptop.  He sighed and crossed the room.  Grabbing a chair from a nearby desk, he rolled it to the side of Chloe’s and dropped heavily into it.  “Have you really not closed this case yet?” he asked quietly.  He waited patiently through her irritated exhale for her eyes to lift.

“I’m not sure we have all the facts, Dan.”

“You say that about every case.”

“And I’m always right.”

“What about Palmetto?”  Her posture stiffened defensively.

“I’m not finished with Palmetto yet.”

“You should be.  Look, Chloe,” he started as he shifted closer to the front of the chair.  “I read the reports on the Lloyd murder this morning.  There was no gun shot residue on anyone except Maggie Pierson.  Slugs found at her place and at the Lloyds’ house came from Maggie’s firearm.  And there were no finger prints besides hers on the gun.”

“First of all, I know what the reports said.  I read them, too.  Secondly, why are you reading the reports from a case you’re not working?”

“I just…I just wanted to see how it was going.”

“Yeah, right,” she nodded.  “The lieutenant is on you to get me to close this case, isn’t she?”

“Chloe, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it, Dan?”  She sighed and sat back in her chair.  “I think someone else was involved.  There’s just too much that had to have happened for Maggie to have been the only one.  Someone _had_ to have helped her get Mr. Lloyd out of his house and into hers.”  She sat forward again.  “And after everything that happened, why would she kill herself if her plan was to be with Mr. Lloyd?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe she was scared.  Maybe she had second thoughts after she shot Mrs. Lloyd, or after she killed Johnson, and didn’t know how to handle it.”

“He didn’t even draw his gun, Dan.”

“She probably surprised him.”

“Mr. Lloyd said he heard Maggie and Johnson arguing; heard Johnson tell her to put her gun down.  He should have had time to draw his.  He isn’t a new cop.  He’s had experience.”

“Yeah, but he’s never been in that kind of situation, either, Chloe.  You know as well as I do that we can train for anything, but until we’re in that position…”  He shrugged.  “No one knows how they’re going to react.”

“I know,” she sighed.  “But if that’s the case, if he _was_ surprised, then Mr. Lloyd is lying.  And then I have to ask what else is he lying about?”

“Close it, Chloe.”  Dan stood.  “I have to go.  Got a few people to shake down today.”  He moved to the front of her desk and placed his hands on his hips as he looked at her.  “Call me if you need anything.”

“I have it covered, Dan.”

“Yeah.  But _he_ doesn’t,” he said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder.  Chloe leaned to her left, peering around Dan and towards the elevators.  Lucifer greeted her with a smile as he slowly made his way across the room.

“Dan, it’s fine.”

“Close it.”  Dan rapped a knuckle on the top of the desk before walking away.  Lucifer approached the desk and sat in the chair Dan had occupied.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“Another reminder to close the case,” she answered.

“Hmm.”  He nodded.  “Is Detective Douche investigating this case?”

“No.”

“Then who cares what he thinks?”

“Lieutenant Monroe,” she answered.  “She thinks she can use Dan to push me into letting this one go.”

“That’s unjustly playing dirty.”

“Yeah.  It’s frustrating.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she sighed.  “Dan knows me pretty well, but he doesn’t trust that I know what I’m doing.  Frustrating,” she repeated.

“Well, _I_ trust that intuition of yours.”  He tapped his finger on her elbow.  “Very sexy, by the way.”

“That’s…”  She took a breath and shook her head.  “That’s nice to know.  Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled.  “So what’s the plan for today?”

“Well.”  She cleared her throat and drummed her fingers on the desk.  “I finished reading the journals last night,” she confessed quietly.

“I’m sorry.  You did what?” he asked, leaning closer to hear her.

“I finished reading the journals.”

“Detective,” he scolded.  “You finished without me.”

“Lucifer,” she sighed.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.  “Couldn’t help myself.  Did you at least find something useful?”

“In a way,” she answered.  “Look.”  She motioned him to her side, turning the laptop towards him as he wheeled the chair around the corner of her desk.  “There’s a gap in the entries.”  His eyes followed her finger as she pointed to the dates on each of two pages displayed on the screen.

“Hold on,” he started.  “That isn’t just a gap; it’s almost two months’ worth of entries.”  He turned to her, eyebrows raised.  “That’s an entire journal missing.”

“Yes, it is,” she smiled.  “Mrs. Lloyd has information on every woman her husband slept with.  She mentions names, where they live, where they work.  How she and her husband knew the women.  Except for one.”  She swiped her finger across the screen, flipping back several pages.  “Here.  Mrs. Lloyd wrote this almost three months ago, a few days before she took the curator job at the museum.”  Lucifer frowned as he read the indicated passage.

“Mrs. Lloyd seems…scared,” he stated.  “What are the odds that the information about this mystery woman is in the missing journal?”

“I’d say they’re pretty good.”

“Do you think the journal was accidentally left behind during collection?”

“Possibly, but…”  She started digging through the papers on her desk, searching for her buzzing phone.  “Where is…ah,” she breathed as she retrieved the device.

“News?” he asked, peering over her shoulder as she opened the message.

“The rest of the prelims,” she answered, scrolling through the memo.  “Mr. Lloyd’s tox screens came back negative.  Huh, apparently he had quite a bit of cough medicine in his system though.”  Lucifer frowned.

“I would think Mr. Lloyd would have noticed if Maggie had spiked his coffee with cough medicine.”

“I would think so, too.”   He leaned towards her and placed his arm along the back of her chair.

“That would be the second lie he’s told us, Detective.”  Lucifer smiled widely as she looked over her shoulder at him.  “When can we punish him?”

“We can’t,” she started.  “This isn’t enough to prove his guilt in any of the murders.”

“But he lied,” he argued.

“Everybody lies.”

“I don’t.”  She nodded and laughed lightly.

“Right.  We can’t go after him for lying, however, this does give us reason to drop by and, I don’t know, talk to him.”  His eyes searched her features, starting with the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips, ending with the sparkle that filled her pale-colored eyes.  He laughed lowly.

”You _want_ to grill him, don’t you?”

“If that’s what ends up happening,” she stated with a shrug.

“Splendid!  Then let us visit Mr. Lloyd and kindly ask to have another look-see.”

“Good idea,” she nodded.  “Of course, he _has_ had the night to make up more of a story than we think he already has.”

“I could always give him a go,” Lucifer offered with a smile.

“I don’t really want you working your crazy mind mojo on a possible witness,” she said.  “Or a possible suspect.  I can’t take the chance that something you do makes his statements inadmissible.  I know, I know, boring,” she quickly added before he could speak.  “I’m sorry, Lucifer, but if you want to play, you’ll have to play by the rules.”

**Lucifer**

Lucifer stared absently through the windshield, mentally replaying the conversation with Dan from the previous evening.  He wished he could have had one more minute with the man before Chloe had interrupted.  One more minute and he was certain he would have had an answer as to why the detectives had separated.  Knowing the reason would have satisfied part of his curiosity, but without Chloe’s willingness to open up to him, the knowledge would have been a moot point.  Doctor Martin was correct; the reason behind the break-up mattered only in how it shaped Chloe.  Identifying the reason would give him some insight into that form.  He would better understand her thinking and, in turn, would perhaps better understand why her suffering disturbed him.  A two-for, he mused.

“Detective,” he started quietly.  “I’m sorry.  About last night.  My intention was not to open old wounds.”  He turned towards her.  “Or more recent ones.”

“Yesterday was a long day,” she said, flashing a gentle smile.  “No worries.”  He nodded and turned his attention to the scenery on the other side of the passenger window.  Of course, the sentimental changes, for lack of a better word, were not the only ones he had been experiencing.  The physical changes were just as boggling to him.  He wondered if those answers would come with the others, if getting to know the detective would truly solve the uncertainties he encountered within himself.  The detective, his sentiments, his corporeal malfunctions…a three-some of mysteries.  He chuckled to himself and turned back to Chloe.

“You do know that Maze was only joking about joining us and her new friend last night, right?”  She laughed lightly.

“Well, she doesn’t seem to like me so I can’t imagine there was any seriousness to her offer.”

“What makes you think she doesn’t like you?”  He hummed at the sidelong glance she aimed in his direction.  “Right.  Sorry.  Well, Maze not being your biggest fan aside, _I_ will genuinely extend the invitation,” he chuckled.  “Open ended.”

“That is absolutely one offer I will never take, Lucifer.”

“You sure?”

“Very,” she smiled.  He returned the smile, relaxed by the ease between them.  The gentleness on her face was such a contrast from the anxiety of the night before and he found himself comforted by her serenity.  Yes, the good doctor was right; he _did_ care about Chloe.  He cared beyond the intrigue of the mystery she represented.  Though he had yet to comprehend exactly what that meant.

“Detective, when is your birthday?”

“Why?” she asked slowly.

“I want to get you a present, of course.”  Chloe steered her vehicle to the curb in front of the Lloyds’ residence and turned off the engine as her eyes narrowed.

“What kind of present?”

“And spoil the surprise?”

“If you don’t tell me, I won’t tell you.”

“Fine,” Lucifer sighed.  “I’m going to get you a driver.”

“A driver.”  She nodded once.  “As in a golf club or…”

“Ha, ha.  A driver.  As in a person who operates a motor vehicle.”  She unbuckled her seat belt and turned to face him fully.

“Why would I want a driver?”

“I’m glad you asked.”  Lucifer copied her actions, unbuckling his seat belt and facing her.  “He can drive you to all of your little crime scenes and interviews, and free you up for much more important and exciting endeavors.”

“Such as?” she frowned.

“Making out in the backseat with me,” he smiled.  Chloe laughed.

“Yeah, we are _not_ going to make out, Lucifer.”

“Oh?”  His smile widened.  “Have other back seat activities in mind, do you?”

“No,” she answered with another laugh and a shake of her finger.  “No, no.”  She left the vehicle and made her way along the front sidewalk.

“I’m not sure I believe you,” Lucifer said as he followed.  “After our little tangle in the elevator yesterday…”  She stopped and turned towards him.  He offered an appreciative smile as he clasped his hands.  “I mean, it’s only a matter of time, Detective.”

“You’ll be waiting forever,” she stated.

“Good thing I’m persistent.”

“That you are.”  She shook her head and started towards the house again.  “It’s not going to happen, Lucifer.”

“Never?” he called after her.

“Never.”  Lucifer took a few quick, long strides to catch up to her.

“We are _never_ going to make out?”  She hummed in the negative.  “Well, we shall see, won’t we?” he smiled.  She simply rolled her eyes.  “You know, you did that whole thing with your shirtsleeves last night.”

“What thing?”

“Pulling them over those slender little fingers of yours.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Lucifer—”

“I can argue with you all day, Detective.”  They ascended the three concrete steps leading to the front door.  “Doesn’t change the fact that you did indeed hide those digits.”  He shifted slightly as he regarded her.  “I understood it happening yesterday morning, as it wasn’t long after your nightmare, and then when we discussed it because, well, we discussed it.  Last night, though…we’re you thinking about it?”

“No.”  She pressed the button for the doorbell.  “This is the first time I’ve thought about it since we talked about it yesterday.”

“But something triggered that reaction last night.”

“Like I said, Lucifer, yesterday was a long day.”  He nodded and gave her a once over.

“You do realize that I’m not buying that answer, right?”

“Suit yourself.”  She knocked, her hand hitting the door with a fair amount of force.  She sighed after a long moment of silence.

“Appears no one is home.”

“Yeah.”  Lucifer slipped his hands into his pockets and focused on Chloe.  He watched as her eyes roamed over the faded welcome mat on the landing in front of her.  She pursed her lips and frowned as her gaze settled on the worn area through the center of the mat.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked.

“You’re thinking,” he replied.  “I can practically hear your thoughts rattling around in your head.”  She nodded slowly and turned towards him.  “Sexy,” he assured with a smile.  “Do share.”

“I don’t think the journal is here, Lucifer.”  She shook her head.  “In fact, I don’t think _any_ of the journals were in the house until the day Mrs. Lloyd died.”

“You think they were planted?”  Chloe nodded.

“I just can’t see keeping that information someplace so accessible,” she explained.  “Especially if she felt threatened by the latest mistress.”  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.  “What we _did_ read, Maggie’s supposed involvement…”

“We both agree it was a nifty way to throw us off course.”

“Yeah.”

“So the journals were hidden, safe from the possible prying eyes of a worthless excuse for a husband.  Where would Mrs. Lloyd have stashed them?”  He pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  “Oh.  Her office at the museum.”  Chloe nodded again.  “Perhaps Mr. Lloyd, with his stellar reputation, was involved with one of her coworkers.”

“Someone who would have had access to her office.  That gives him opportunity to plant the journals and hide the one that implicates the actual murderer, or you know, himself.”

“Oh, Detective.”  Lucifer smiled widely.  “I am seriously very turned on right now.”

“Shut up,” she chuckled.  “Come on.  Let’s go.”

**Lucifer**

Lucifer stood quietly at the front desk, eyeing the large, open foyer of the museum.  Two staircases flanked the area, the steps of each covered in a dark red fabric.  The banisters were black iron, exhibiting a simple Victorian flare.  His eyes followed the banister to its peak on the second floor, where it continued as a railing for the exposed balcony.  He tapped Chloe’s shoulder and pointed to the small group of people on the second floor.

“We should take the tour,” he smiled.

“Um, maybe a different time, Lucifer,” she replied.  “Right now, I just want to get into Mrs. Lloyd’s office.”

“You were serious about spoiling my fun, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“Sorry to keep you folks waiting.”  Chloe turned back to the counter and smiled gently at the security guard.  “All these problems we’re having with the electricity today…”  He shook his head.  “It’s a damn nuthouse.”

“I bet it is,” she nodded.

“I’m James,” he said, extending a hand.

“Detective Decker.”  She shook James’ hand then pointed at Lucifer.  “This is my partner, Mr. Morningstar.”

“I’m sorry we can’t use the elevators,” he started, coming out from behind the desk.  “But if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you up to Gwen Tanner’s office.”

“Thank you, but we need to see Mrs. Lloyd’s office,” Chloe started as she and Lucifer followed James.

“Oh, it’s the same office,” he explained.  “Miss Tanner was the assistant curator, promoted late last night due to the current circumstances.  She started moving into Mrs. Lloyd’s room this morning.”  He curled a hand around the banister as he began to ascend the stairs.

“That seems rather soon,” Lucifer commented.

“I thought so, too, but as Miss Tanner pointed out this morning, I am not paid to think.”  Chloe looked at Lucifer, her eyebrows raised.  “It really is a shame,” James started.  “Mrs. Lloyd was such a wonderful woman.  She treated all of us like family.”

“James, did Mrs. Lloyd have any issues with anyone here at the museum?” Chloe asked.

“Not at all.  This way,” he said as the reached the second floor.  He excused himself as he passed between the wall and the tour group before leading Chloe and Lucifer through a door marked ‘employees only’.  “Actually, it’s strange, to me, at least, that she didn’t have any problems with Miss Tanner.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Both of them were assistant curators, both applied for the curator job when Mr. Allen retired.  Mrs. Lloyd got the job.”  As they reached the end of the hall, he turned left into another corridor.  “I honestly thought Miss Tanner would have put up a fight, being that she’s worked here longer than Mrs. Lloyd.  But she didn’t say anything.  At least, not aloud like she does with every other thing that pisses her off.”  Lucifer stopped in front of a door and pointed to the label on the wall.

“Mrs. Lloyd and Miss Tanner shared this office?” he asked.

“Yes,” James answered.  “Until Mrs. Lloyd was promoted.  You know, we’ve hired two people for the assistant position since then, and they both quit within a week, just because they couldn’t handle working with Miss Tanner.”  He laughed lightly.  “Now that she’s the boss, I wonder if we’ll ever have an assistant again.  One more door,” he said, turning to continue down the hall.  He knocked gently on the door and waited for permission to enter.  “Miss Tanner?” he started as he opened the door and stepped into the office.  “There are a couple of detectives here to see you.”

“Of course.”  She turned to the bookcase that filled the wall behind her desk and slid a thick book onto one of the shelves.  “Send them in.”  He stepped back into the hallway and motioned Chloe and Lucifer inside.

“Miss Tanner,” Chloe greeted.  “I’m…”  She turned her eyes to the other person in the room and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “Mr. Lloyd,” she said with a bite of irritation.  “My partner and I were just at your house.”

“Really.”  Henry looked from Chloe to Lucifer then back to Chloe.  “Why?”

“We had a few more questions for you,” Lucifer answered as he closed the door.

“Questions about what?” he asked, perching on the front edge of the desk.

“We’re actually looking for one of Katrina’s journals,” Chloe answered.  She turned to Miss Tanner.  “Miss Tanner,” she started again, her tone gentler.  “I’m Detective Decker, this is Mr. Morningstar.  We’re investigating Katrina’s death.  We have reason to believe she may have left that journal here.”

“Oh.  Well, Henry and I just finished packing Katrina’s personal items.  I didn’t see any journals.  Did you, Henry?”

“No,” he answered.  “I did not.”  Chloe waved a finger towards the wall.

“Nothing in the bookcase?”

“No,” Miss Tanner answered with a smile.  Lucifer licked his lips; he could almost taste the lies the woman told.  _Rules_ , he reminded himself.  “That’s just dictionaries and encyclopedias, research materials that belong to the museum.”  Chloe pointed to a cardboard box on Miss Tanner’s desk.

“Are those Katrina’s item?” she asked.

“Yes,” Henry answered.

“Do you mind if I have a look?”

“Be my guest.”  Henry slid off the desk and stepped back from the box as Chloe stepped forward and started to sift through the items.  Lucifer leaned back against the door, slowly crossing his arms as not to attract attention.  He watched as Henry looked over the top of Chloe’s head, meeting Miss Tanner’s eyes with a serious stare.  He watched as Henry then focused on the detective, his rage barely contained in his expression.

“It’s not here,” Chloe stated quietly.  “Is there another place Katrina may have kept her belongings?”

“No.”  Miss Tanner shook her head.  “There’s a locker room for the hourly employees in the basement, but all salaried employees have their own offices.  There’s no need for us to use the locker room.”

“Mr. Lloyd, your wife was scared of someone you were having an affair with,” Chloe pushed.  Lucifer raised his eyebrows, stunned and curious about the detective’s unusually less than tactful approach.  “And it wasn’t Maggie Pierson.  So who was it?”

“Detective Decker,” he started.  “I think you are entirely out of line with this type of questioning.”

“I don’t.”

“My wife is dead, Detective.  And you know very well who the murderer was.”

“I think it was you.”

“You have no right!” Henry yelled, slowly approaching her.  “No right to come in here and start up with these ridiculous accusations.”  Lucifer pushed off the door and moved to stand behind Chloe, his looming presence protective.

“We need to search this office for the journal,” Chloe said, turning back to Miss Tanner.

“You have no cause,” Henry stated.

“And if it isn’t here,” she continued, regarding Henry again, “we’re going to search your house again.”

“I am not someone you can bully, Detective,” Henry stated.  “If you want to search this room, search my house for some _stupid_ journal,” he spat, “fine.  But you better have a damn good reason for doing so and a warrant when you stop by.”

“Oh, I will.”  She stopped when she felt Lucifer’s fingers gently fold around her elbow.

“Detective,” he whispered.  She clenched her jaw and shook her head as she continued to hold Henry’s gaze.  Lucifer tugged gently on her arm, turning her towards the door.  Once they were in the hall, he released Chloe and quietly closed the door.  She ran her hands over her face as she walked away from him.  “Detective, stop.”  She did as told but kept her back to him.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly.  “He’s hiding something.”  She turned to Lucifer.  “Something big.”

“I agree.”

“We need to find that journal,” she stated quietly.  “There has to be _something_ in there that we can use.”

“And how do you plan on doing so?” he asked.  “You lied about returning with a warrant.  You won’t be able to get one to search either premises, will you?”

“No,” she sighed.  “We don’t have anything close to enough for a judge to grant one.”  Lucifer frowned.  He understood there was a need to bend the truth during an investigation, to keep certain facts, certain ideas private while searching for the perpetrators.  He could have overlooked her lie had she not been quite so indiscreet with her allegations.  It was her anger over her personal matters, he believed, that had started to show.  “I need a break and some time to think,” she said.  “Do you want to grab a bite to eat?”

“A raincheck, if I may, Detective.”  He offered a gentle smile.  “I have some business of the Lux variety this afternoon.  Perhaps we can meet up later this evening?”

“Yeah, of course.  Do you want me to drop you off at Lux?”  He shook his head.

“No, thank you though.  My business is within walking distance.”  She narrowed her eyes at him and nodded slowly.

“All right.  I’ll…I’ll see you later then.”  He bowed his head and slipped his hands into his pockets.  He remained in place, allowing her to walk the hallway alone, knowing she needed the privacy to calm down.  “Lucifer?” she called, turning to look at him.  “You’re not…you’re not staying just so you can go on the tour, are you?”  He smiled widely.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered.

“Okay,” she laughed.  “Whatever.”  She waved a hand and walked out of his line of sight.  Turning back towards Miss Tanner’s office, Lucifer weighed his choices as he stared at the closed door.  He could return to the pair and easily pull out all of their sordid secrets, but the detective had already taken that option off the table.  _You’ll have to play by the rules._

“Rules,” he muttered.

“Excuse me, Sir.”  Lucifer turned, stepping back as James walked around him and to the empty assistants’ office.  He opened the door and slapped a hand against the wall, flicking the switch to turn on the lights.  “Get the hell out of here,” he said loudly.  “Now.”  A young man and woman emerged from the room, holding hands and giggling as they ran away.  “Damn college kids,” James mumbled.  “Someone started a rumor that the office is haunted.”  He turned off the light, and closed and locked the door.  “Ten years later, and it’s still the go-to make-out sight.”

“What little rascals,” Lucifer chuckled.

“They sure are,” James smiled.  “Sorry for the interruption.”  With an apologetic nod, he walked away.  Lucifer shook his head and turned his attention back to Miss Tanner’s door.

“You’ll have to play by the rules,” he said to himself.  “Well, my dear detective,” he started with a smile.  “Some rules were made to be broken.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to titC, Skaoi, Grym and Up Quark for setting my boggle of a thought straight and giving me a great section for a future chapter! Mwa!

“Oh, Maze!” Lucifer called as he jogged down the stairs into the main area of Lux.

“Ah, there he is.”  Maze leaned an elbow on the bar top, her cheek on her hand, and stared adoringly at him.  “The homicide detective formally known as the devil.”

“Funny,” he said as he slid onto a barstool.

“Here.”  She set an empty glass in front of him and filled it hallway with an amber liquid.  “This will help curb the stress of your day.”  She placed a finger near the bottom of the glass and pushed it across the reflective countertop.

“You are _full_ of it today, aren’t you?”  He accepted the glass and took a quick drink.  “I need your help.  Again.”

“I am _not_ babysitting the douche again, Lucifer.  Those were _the_ most boring hours of my life.”  She raised an eyebrow and smiled.  “Do I get to play with him this time?”

“As much as I would love to let you have a little fun with Detective Douche,” he started, “that’s not what I require of you.”  His eyes settled on his glass as a small frown crinkled his forehead.  She watched for a moment as his finger absently traced the rim of the tumbler.  With a click of her long nails against the bar top, she rounded the counter.

“You look…tense.”  She stopped at his side and pushed the short back of the bar stool, turning him to face her.  “How can I help?” she asked, her fingers playing deftly along the lapels of his suitcoat.  He hooked his fingers under hers and brought her hand to his mouth for a gentle kiss.

“I need you,” he began, “to accompany me on a field trip.”  His other hand lifted his glass and he downed the rest of the drink in one swallow.  As he stood, she pressed a hand into his chest, stopping his forward movement.

“What?” she bit.

“A field trip,” he smiled, looking down at her.  “To the museum.”

“Why?”

“Detective Decker and I think the missing link in our case may be there.”  He quirked an eyebrow.  “And _I_ want to find it.”

“What about Lux?” she asked.

“What about it?”

“The vendors are coming soon.”  She tsked.  “Or have you forgotten all about you little den of iniquity?”

“No, I have not.”

“I think you have.”  She tipped her head slightly.  “You’re too busy playing cop to do what you do best, foster temptation.”

“What I do best, Maze, is punish those deserving.”  She clicked her tongue across the inside of her teeth and crossed her arms.  “I have no doubt Patrick is entirely capable of watching the shop whilst we’re away.  I know some of the vendors are complete assholes and I know just how much you love to mess with them, but…”  She cocked her head farther to the side as she looked up at him.

“What if they cause problems?”  He sighed at her unwavering glare.

“Fine.  If anyone should get out of line, you may hunt them down and tear them to pieces if you so wish.  Better?”

“Much.”  She smiled widely.

“Splendid.  Can we go now?”  She hooked her finger in the top of his dress shirt and turned, pulling him towards the staircase.

**Lucifer**

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Maze grumbled as she and Lucifer stood behind the small tour group.

“Well, believe it,” Lucifer stated.

“I hate humans.  Look at them; all normal and…”  Her face contorted in disgust as she regarded the crowd.  “Gross,” she shuddered.

“Oh, come now, Mazie.  Where’s your sense of adventure?” he smiled as he leaned into her arm.

“Do I get to disembowel any of these people?”  She pointed to a tall, skinny man a few people ahead of her.  “How about that one?  The one in the baggy khaki shorts and the Hawaiian print shirt?”

“No, my dear,” he laughed.  “Not today.”

“Excuse me, everyone.  May I have your attention please?”  Lucifer leaned to his left, peering around the group to a short woman facing the group.  “Thank you.  Welcome,” she greeted excitedly.  “My name is Jennifer and I will be your tour guide this afternoon.”  A murmured greeting floated through the crowd.  “Before we get started, I would just like to remind everyone that we do not allow any pictures, as the camera’s flash may damage some of our older paintings.  But we do have postcards of our more famous exhibits available for purchase in the gift shop.”  Her curly brown hair bounced around her face as she enthusiastically finished her sentence.  “Well, let’s get started!  Right this way.”

“Ooh, here we go.”  Lucifer nudged Maze’s arm with his elbow.

“You owe me for this,” she bit.  As the group slowly moved forward, he wrapped his fingers around her elbow and deftly moved her towards the employee door.  He chuckled softly as they slipped through undetected.  “What, exactly, are we doing?” she asked as he quickly led her through the hallways.

“We’re looking for a journal.”

“We’re sneaking around a museum to find a journal?  Seriously?”

“Seriously.  Detective Decker and I believe it’s hiding in the curator’s office.”  He motioned to his left.  “This way.”

“Detective Decker and I,” she mocked in a snotty voice.

“Come off it, Maze.”  He shook his head.  “This journal could hold the answers we need to find the real murderer.”  He held out his hand, both slowing as they neared the office.  His eyes dropped to the floor, catching the thin shard of light that peeked from beneath the wooden door.  “She’s still in there,” he sighed.

“Why not just go in there and ask for it?” she offered.  “Or take it.  You have the ability to get whatever you want.”

“Yes, however, we must play by the rules this time, Darling.”

“The _human_ rules?”

“Yes, Maze.  The human rules.”  He looked at the door for the assistants’ office.  “Here,” he started.  “We’ll wait in here.”

“Lucifer,” she hissed as he ushered her into the darkness of the unused room.  “Wait?  We’re going to _wait_?  You are _really_ starting to—”

“Shh.  Listen.”  He wandered through the dark to the wall shared by the offices.  “Can you hear that?” he asked quietly.

**.L.**

“I’m not the one that killed Johnson, Gwen,” Henry started.  “Maybe Decker wouldn’t be poking around if he hadn’t died.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Gwen bit snidely.  “Everything happened so quickly and not the way we had planned.  I wasn’t expecting him to take Maggie home.”

“I know.”  He scratched at the top of his head.  “Manny didn’t have a choice.  Maggie refused to leave the house.”

“So,” she started with a sigh as she sat on the edge of her desk.  “How are we getting that detective off our asses?”

“We don’t need to worry about it,” Henry replied.  “I had a friend fix some of the evidence.  Decker doesn’t have anything to follow.”

“All of those concerns Katrina had about you,” Gwen laughed.  “All concerns of a paranoid wife.”

“Yes.  Until she started to consider going to the police.”  He moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist.  “Where is it, Gwen?  Where’s the journal?”

“It’s safe.”  She joined her hands behind his neck.

“Seriously, sweetheart.  Where is it?”

“It’s safe,” she repeated.  “And you should know, my name is never mentioned in the journal.  In fact, nothing about me other than being a female is mentioned in the journal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that not in one place in the long list of your whores did Katrina mention _my_ name.  I’m just ‘my husband’s friend’.  She does mention, in detail, the fight the two of you had a few months ago.  And she mentions her plan to leave you because she feared for her life.  She was scared of _you_ , not of her husband’s friend.”  She played with the collar of his dress shirt.  “Henry, we have everything we want.  Don’t blow it.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“It’s a promise of what’s to come if you don’t make sure the detective ends her investigation.  I love you, Henry, but I’ve worked too hard to get here.”  She shook her head.  “Your carelessness will be _your_ downfall and yours alone.”

“It’s taken care of,” he assured her.

“Because you have friends.”

“Yes.”

“Like your friend in the coma?  What’s his name?  Malcolm?  He certainly can’t help cover up your little dirty deed from his hospital bed.”

“ _Our_ little dirty deed, Gwen.  And I have friends all over that precinct.”  She smiled and lightly patted his cheek.

“I trust you, honey.”  He hummed and leaned in to place a kiss on her lips.

“Don’t worry.  A week or two and all of this will have blown over,” he said.  “Will you be much longer?”

“I was just on my way out before you dropped in,” she replied.  “And, yes, I was planning on stopping by.”  She shifted closer to the edge of the desk and wrapped a leg around his hip.  “Are you going to let me spend the night?”

“Of course.”  He smiled and kissed her again.  “I’ll head out then.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”  Gwen waited for Henry to leave the office before moving to the other side of her desk.  She tidied a few papers, turned off the small desk lamp and gathered her jacket and purse.  After turning off the main light for the room, she stepped into the hallway.

“Afternoon, Miss Tanner.”

“Oh, hello, Peter.”  She smiled snidely as the security guard approached.

“Headed out early tonight?”

“I am.”  She slipped the key into the slot in the doorknob and engaged the lock.  “Listen, I have some very important legal documents, contracts and such, in my office for tomorrow’s meeting.  Don’t let anyone, not even the janitors, in there tonight.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he smiled.  “I’ll make sure it stays locked up tight.”

“Yes, you will.”  Peter’s smile dropped as she walked away and turned the corner at the end of the hallway.  He shook his head and continued on his path.  “Bitch,” he mumbled under his breath.

**.L.**

“I _knew_ it,” Lucifer hissed through a whisper.  “The journal of which she speaks, Maze.  That’s the one I need.”

“There has to be a million places she could have hidden it.  Do you really think she’s keeping it in the office?”

“I would stake my immortality on it,” he nodded.

“Then what are we waiting for?”  She smiled as she took his hand and pulled him to the door.  Poking her head into the hallway, she checked both ends of the corridor.  “We’re clear.”  They moved into the hallway and towards the next office.  “You’re right,” she admitted with a small smile.  “This _is_ kind of exciting.”  She watched as Lucifer placed his hand on the knob and opened the door.  “Though not very challenging.”

“Perks of being the devil,” he smiled.  “Next time, you can pick the lock.  Or break the door, if you prefer.  I promise.  After you.”  He followed Maze into the room and quietly closed the door before turning on the light.  She moved towards the desk, running a finger along the longest edge.

“Sturdy,” she commented with an appreciative smile.  “I like it.”

“Sorry to disappoint yet again, Maze, but your sexual antics will have to wait for another time.”  He moved towards left side of the bookcase.  She watched with curiosity for a moment as his fingers ran over the spine of the books.

“I don’t get it.  Why are you trying so hard to impress Chloe Decker?” she asked.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” he said over his shoulder.

“Really.”

“Really.”  He turned to her.  “Here lie two people who need to be punished, Maze,” he explained with a smile.  “I just want a swing at the piñata, that’s all.”

“And I get that,” she nodded.  “But you _can_ swing anytime you want to, Lucifer.  You’re the Lord of Hell.”

“You don’t need to keep reminding me, Maze.”

“Don’t I?”  She moved to the opposite side of the bookcase, her eyes never leaving his.  “Clearly you’re having trouble remembering.  Ever since we dragged those two idiot photographers out into the alley,” she scolded lightly as her eyes wandered over the shelves in front of her.  “You _can_ dish out the punishment without having to play by the human rules.”

“I can play whatever way I please, Maze.”  His attention returned to the books, his fingers continuing their motion as he moved to the next section of shelves.  “Now, are you going to help me or…”  He tilted his head to the side.  “Hello.  What have we here?”  Maze moved to his side as he pulled a thin notebook from between two thick encyclopedias.  He flipped through the pages; his smile growing as he realized the cursive writing matched that of Mrs. Lloyd’s journals.  “Marvelous!”

“This is it?” she asked.

“Yes, yes it is.”  He put the journal back into the mix of books and turned to Maze.  “Let’s go.”

“Wait.  This _is_ what you’re looking for, isn’t it?” she asked, the confusion obvious in her features.

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t you taking it?”

“Rules, Maze.”

“Right,” she laughed.  “Rules.”  She followed Lucifer into the hallway and loudly closed the door behind her.  “Because I’m sure what we just did was one-hundred percent _by the rules_.  I still think you’re doing it just for Decker.”  He released a slow breath, his irritation beginning to show, and set his eyes forward as they moved through the hallway.  “And you have nothing to say to that, do you?”  He turned the corner, nearly running her into the wall.  “Do you know why?” she asked with a smirk.  “You have nothing to say because you don’t lie.  And saying you’re _not_ trying to impress you little detective would be a _big_ lie.”  Lucifer pushed through the employee door and crossed the balcony.  He learned the heels of his palms on the railing and looked out over the foyer.  “Probably the biggest lie ever told,” she taunted.

“I need to get the detective to come back here,” he stated.

“Are you just going to ignore me, Lucifer?”

“Yes, Maze, I am.”  He tapped his fingers on the metal before straightening his posture and turning to his demon.  “Back to Lux, my dear.  I need a drink.”

**Lucifer**

“Knock, knock.”  Lucifer smiled politely as he lightly tapped his knuckles on the doorframe of the lieutenant’s office.

“Mr. Morningstar,” she smiled.  “I’m surprised to see you.  I thought you and Detective Decker would have called it a day by now.”

“Well, you know the detective,” he laughed gently.  “She’s quite the tenacious one.”  He gestured towards the empty chair in front of her desk.  “May I?”

“Absolutely,” she smiled.

“Thank you.”

“What’s on your mind?” she asked as he sat.

“Detective Decker and I have a few questions about the Lloyd murder,” he started.  “Questions we believe we can answer with a search of Mrs. Lloyd’s office at the museum.”

“Yes,” she nodded.  “Decker did mention that to me earlier.”  She leaned forward and drummed her fingers on her desk.  “I spoke to Mr. Lloyd’s lawyer a little while ago.  He told me the two of you were already at the museum.”

“We were,” he nodded.  “Simply tying up a few loose ends.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Morningstar—”

“Lucifer,” he smiled.  “Please.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, _Lucifer_ ,” she started, returning his smile, “but, I’m sorry.  You can’t search the office; not without probable cause.”

“Yes, the detective said as much.”  He shifted towards the front of the chair, rested his elbow on his knee and rubbed the tips of his fingers across his bottom lip.  “What would constitute probable cause in this situation?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Merely curious,” he answered.  “I am…new to the rules.”

“Of course,” she smiled.  “Well, with any case we work, we start with the evidence.  If something surfaces with a tie to a specific area, we go forward with a search.”

“Makes perfect sense.”

“If evidence doesn’t point in that direction, yet the detectives find something suspicious in a certain locale, it is sometimes possible to get a warrant to search the area.”  She shrugged.  “That only works if the detectives have a damn good reason for being in an area.  A reason that’s usually accompanied by an invitation.”

“Right,” he said slowly.  “I see.”  Olivia leaned a little farther over the desk.

“I very much doubt you’ll receive that invitation,” she said quietly, shaking her head.  If Lucifer had not known better, he would have considered the lieutenant’s comment a challenge.  Yet he _did_ know better.  She was politely telling him to give up the ghost, using him to quell the detective’s investigation, just as she had used Detective Douche.

_No one_ used the devil.

“Yes, agreed.”  He nodded slowly.  “That knowledge is rather helpful.  I appreciate the explanation, Lieutenant.”

“Olivia,” she offered.

“Olivia,” he repeated with a smile and delicate tone.

“I have to say, Lucifer, it’s a little unconventional, but it’s nice to have a partner for Chloe again.  I’m glad you offered your services.”

“I am glad you accepted.”  She laughed lightly.

“Go home and take Decker with you,” she ordered gently.  “I know you were both hoping for a different outcome, but you’ve done all you can do.  And you’ve done a good job,” she nodded.

“Thank you, Olivia.”  With one last smile, a small and disingenuous smile, he stood and left the office.  He moved slowly across the room to the front of Chloe’s empty desk, a frown playing across his face.  The lieutenant was a fool if she thought him so easily dissuaded, if she thought him a convenient pawn in the campaign to keep Chloe tethered.  He had the means to procure all of the answers and the confessions the detective needed to solve and close the case, to ensure the proper persons punished.  The path was clear to him; he knew exactly what he needed to do.

“Care to tell me what that was all about?”  Lucifer turned to the woman who had suddenly appeared behind him.  Her arms were crossed, her weight settled into her left hip.  Her eyes narrowed and the thin line of her sculpted eyebrows knitted into a scowl.  Her eyes sparkled with an irritated suspicion, though he believed the sentiment more playful than serious.

“Detective,” he greeted with a slow smile.  “You are just as adorable when you’re pissy as you are when you’re flustered.”  He offered a short hum as he tipped his head to the side.  “Though, truth be told, I’ve yet to encounter a time you’re _not_ adorable.  Or incredibly hot.”

“What were you and the lieutenant talking about?” she asked, disregarding the comment.

“I take that back.”  Lucifer sighed and shook his head.  “Ignoring me when I flirt with you is in _no_ way adorable _or_ hot.  I would rather listen to you lie and contest your obvious attraction to me than to have you flout me in such a manner.”  She raised her eyebrows in warning.  “We were talking about the weather,” he answered, “and the lack of delightfully dangerous cases.”  She rolled her eyes and started towards the other side of the desk.  “And you shooting me in the leg.”

“Lucifer!” she harshly whispered.

“Kidding, Detective,” he laughed lightly.  “It is much too easy to ruffle your feathers.  Not that I’m complaining,” he added quickly.  “I rather enjoy it.”  He sat on the front corner of her desk, twisting slightly to see her.  “Actually, your boss ordered me to take you home,” he explained with a suggestive rise of his eyebrows.

“What are you talking about?”

“She said, and I’m quoting, ‘Go home and take Decker with you’.”  He chuckled.  “I _really_ like the way your boss thinks.”  Chloe shook her head.

“That’s her way of telling _you_ to tell _me_ to close the case.”

“I suspected as much.”  She dropped into her chair and sighed.

“How was Lux business?”

“Thrilling as always,” he answered sarcastically.

“My afternoon wasn’t any better.”  She looked up at him as her shoulders sagged.  “I have to call it, Lucifer.  We have to close the case.  I just…I don’t have anywhere else to go with it.”

“I disagree.”

“You’re welcome to, but we haven’t found anything to link Mr. Lloyd to the murders.”

“True.”  He nodded slowly.  “What are your plans for the evening, Detective?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What are your plans?” he repeated.

“Um, I don’t have any.”

“Great.  Then you should come with me.”

“I’m not going home with you.”  She absently waved her hand.  “I don’t care what the lieutenant said.”

“Well, there _are_ a few things I would _love_ to explore with you in that regard,” he chuckled.  “However, the more prudent option may be chasing a possible lead.”

“What are you talking about?  What lead?”

“I would rather show you than tell you.”

“Lucifer,” she warned slowly.

“Detective,” he repeated, mocking her tone.

“I don’t have the patience for games.”

“No games.”  He stood suddenly and motioned for her to join him. “Come,” he said.  She simply stared at him.  “What are you waiting for?  Come, come,” he said excitedly as he rolled his wrist.  “Detective, don’t make me beg.”  A small smile tugged at the corner of Chloe’s lips as she sat back in her chair.  He dropped his hands to his sides and his smile fell.  “No,” he stated emphatically.  “You are _not_.”

“Oh, I am.”

“Detective,” he whined.

“It would really help me believe you’re not playing games.”  He released a short breath and pursed his lips as he regarded her with leery eyes.

“Fine,” he said curtly.  “Come with me.  _Please._ ”

“I’m sorry.  What was that?”  His eyes fluttered to a close as he muttered a soft curse.

“ _Please_ , Detective.”  He opened his eyes and met her expectant gaze.  “ _Please_ come with me.”  She nodded slowly and stood from her chair.

“Maybe you were right,” she started.  “What you said yesterday morning about me wanting you to beg.”

“This is not the reason for which I pictured the begging,” he frowned.

“I mean, I think I kind of like it,” she continued as she slipped her arms into her leather jacket and pulled her bag from the floor.

“Tell me, are we even speaking the same language?” he asked as she walked around the front of the desk.  “How can I _possibly_ make my intentions clearer to you?”

“You’ll have to do better in the future, though.  Next time, I want you on your knees.”  She settled her bag on her shoulder and took seven steps before the triumphant smile on her face disappeared.  Closing her eyes, she swore inwardly.  “Wipe that smile off your face,” she said without looking at him.  “That is _not_ what I meant.”

**Lucifer**

The cold breeze whipped around Chloe.  It brushed across her cheeks, nipped at her skin.  It flowed over her shoulders, wrapped itself around her body.  It loosened several tendrils of hair from her poorly secured ponytail.  The air was crisp and refreshing, the late day sun bright and wonderfully warm.  Chloe released a gentle sigh as she basked in the beautiful weather.  For the first time in a long time, her mind was void of its usual chaos, calm and relaxed.  She was comfortable.  Content.

No.  Content, she decided, was not the right word.

Crazy.

She was crazy.

Stark raving mad.

It was the only plausible explanation.  She had finally snapped, buckled under the stress of her job, her marriage.  She was no longer able to care.  About anything.  Which is why she found herself in the passenger seat of Lucifer’s black Corvette without having attempted an argument.  _“I’ll drive,”_ he had said.  He had skipped a few steps ahead of her and had opened the passenger door of his vehicle.  She had taken her place with nothing more than a smile of thanks for his chivalry.  Allowing Lucifer to drive was not the only sign of Chloe’s rational instability.  She had agreed to explore his supposed lead for their case before knowing any of the details.  She hadn’t grilled him with questions, no “who”, no “why”, no “where”.  No “what did you do that you weren’t supposed to do”.  She had simply followed him into the unknown.

“Like what you see, Detective?”  The quiet sound of Lucifer’s voice flooded her thoughts, the smooth timbre washing away her self-berating reflections.  With a revelation that was much less than surprising, she realized she had been unintentionally staring at him.  She wasn’t sure at what point during her mental wandering she had focused on him, and she really didn’t care.  What mattered was why his presence was constantly taking over her reverie.  _“Why don’t I affect you, Detective?”_   Oh, he affected her.  More than he knew, more than she was willing to admit.

“So when are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked, refusing to acknowledge his question.

“Why do you sell yourself short?” he asked with a smile.  “You know _precisely_ where we are headed.”

“Hmm.  That gut feeling.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, I have an _awful_ gut feeling we’re headed to the museum,” she stated.  “One of the two places we’re not supposed to be.”  He chuckled lowly.

“Tell a person not to look down and what does he do?”

“Lucifer—”

“The devil, my darling, goes where he pleases,” he explained.  “And as my partner, you get to come along for the ride.”  He lightly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, drumming to the beat of the music flowing from the vehicle’s radio.  “Besides.”  He glanced in her direction, a playful smile on his face.  “I have a plan.”

“A plan,” she repeated with a soft yet incredulous laugh.  “Is that plan to get me in trouble?  Because that’s what’s going to happen.”

“Nonsense,” he huffed lightly, waving a hand.  “I promise to play by the book.”

“Who’s book?”  Lucifer grinned widely as he steered the car into the parking lot of the museum.  “Yeah, thought so.  You think that smile is so charming,” she started, wiggling a finger towards him, “but it’s really kind of scary.”  He shifted the car into park, turned off the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Perhaps not as scary as you want to believe.  After all, you just couldn’t keep yourself from staring a moment ago, could you?”  Chloe sighed and let herself out of the car.  “Or is that what does it for you?” he asked as he joined her.  “Hmm?  A little fear to get the party started?”  He nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets as his eyes ran over her body.  “Kinky.  I can work with that.”

“What are we doing here, Lucifer?”

“We didn’t take the time to appreciate what this building has to offer,” he smiled.  “Our earlier visit was all stuffy cop business.  Speaking of…”  He stepped towards her, reaching for the elastic band that held her hair in place at the back of her head.  “I see you’re back to your all-work-and-no-play self today,” he started, freeing her hair from the band, “but it is time to let your hair down.”

“Lucifer,” she cautioned gently as his fingers played in her hair, smoothing and properly arranging the sections that fell over her shoulders.

“This museum really _is_ quite beautiful,” he said, slipping the band into his pocket.  “And Jennifer gives _excellent_ tours,” he added quickly.

“I _knew_ it!” she laughed.  “You _did_ stay behind to take the tour!”

“Yes, yes.  Giggle away.”  He clasped his hands and tipped his head as he regarded her.  “Are you finished now?  It’s almost closing time, Detective.  Only one tour left for the evening.  We must hurry or we’ll miss it.”

“I do not want to go on a tour.”

“Detective, I have a plan,” he reiterated.

“You’re really not making me feel any better about this.”

“Just follow my lead.”  He reached for her right hand and laced their fingers.  “I promise everything will make sense shortly.  Come.”  Chloe held his playful, dark eyes as he slowly walked backwards.  Her curiosity over his thoughts won over any objections she could have, and knew she should have, had.  Their arms were nearly stretched fully between their bodies when he pulled gently, tugging her along.  With a roll of her eyes, she walked alongside him across the parking lot and into the building.  He stopped at a point between the entrance and the front desk, bouncing lightly on his heels as he focused his attention on the security guard sitting behind the desk.  He waited patiently as the group of people in the foyer thinned, clearing from his view.

“Lucifer?”  He turned slightly towards her, his gaze never faltering.  “Who are you looking at?”  She looked around the area as she tried to pinpoint the person holding his attention.

“Patience, Love,” he responded in lieu of an answer.  The guard turned in his chair and upon rising happened a glance in the pair’s direction.  Lucifer smiled politely and nodded.  The guard frowned with confusion as he returned the greeting.  “Perfect,” he said quietly.  Turning to Chloe, he gently swept his hand through the air, motioning towards the staircase on the right side of the foyer.  “Shall we?”  When they reached the top of the flight of stairs, Chloe looked over the railing, down to the front desk.  The guard, though speaking with another employee, glanced in their direction several times.

“Do you know him?” she asked, looking at her partner.  Lucifer slipped his free hand into his pocket and made a show of looking over the railing.

“Not in the slightest.”  She watched a careful smile grace his features as he again met the guard’s gaze.  He stepped back from the railing and continued along the balcony, the detective in tow, until they joined the waiting tour group.

“I still don’t understand this.”  She lifted their joined hands.  He smiled and wiggled his arm.

“Are you not a PDA kind of person, my dear?”

“What?”

“PDA.  Public displays of—”

“Affection.  Yeah, I know what it means.  Why are we doing it?”

“I don’t know what kind of experiences you’ve had in life, but this is certainly not ‘doing it’.”

“Holding hands, you ass,” she chuckled.  “Why are we holding hands?”

“I have a plan,” he explained slowly.  “Seriously, Detective.  I already told you that part.”  He playfully rolled his eyes.  “Pay attention.”

“Are you going to share this plan?”

“All in good time, Darling.”  He shifted until he stood in front of her, facing her fully.  “Don’t pull away,” he said quietly as he lifted his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear.  “Shoot me later, if you must, but don’t pull away.”  Chloe stayed still, attempting to keep her expression from giving away her aggravation as his fingers traced the line of her jaw.  “What is the most important thing partners can have?”

“Trust,” she answered slowly.

“Indeed.”  He continued to play with her hair as he again glanced over the balcony’s railing.

“Are you…are you taunting that guard?” she asked incredulously.

“Why, yes.”  He gently tapped his finger on the tip of her nose.  “I am.”

“You’re doing it again,” she muttered.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling in that way that scares me more than it should.”

“Detective.”  His smile fell as he held her eyes.  “Do you trust me?”  She frowned gently.

“Lucifer, I—”

“Good evening, everyone!” Jennifer greeted as she collected the attention of the tour group.

“Detective,” he whispered as he leaned into her shoulder.  “Get ready.”

“Ready for what?”  Lucifer looked pointedly at the guard, who now stood behind the desk with a scowl and crossed arms, and his eyes trained on the pair.

“Yes,” Lucifer drew slowly.  “This way; quickly.”  He pulled Chloe through the employee door.  She followed closely, daring only one look behind them, as he led her through the halls.

“Lucifer!” she whispered loudly.  “What are you doing?”

“Getting us into Mrs. Lloyd’s office.”  He stopped at the assistants’ office, opened the door and ushered her into the room with a gentle hand on the small of her back.  He turned on the light and quickly checked the hallway before closing the door.  Chloe moved to the middle of the room, slowly making a circle as he eyes skimmed the empty tops of two desks.  The back wall of the room sported a row of lower cabinets, the countertop also void of objects.

“This isn’t the right office, Lucifer,” she said as she finished her rotation.

“I know,” he stated.  “You didn’t answer my question, Detective,” he said as he turned towards her.

“What question?”

“Do you trust me?”  His eyes were dark, filled with a degree of spirited wickedness she had never seen from him.  She laughed nervously and shook her head emphatically as she backed away.

“No,” she replied.  “Not with that look on your face.”

“But I’m your partner.”  He offered a misleading pout.  “If you can’t trust _me_ …”  He approached her, matching her slow retreat across the room step for step.

“Something tells me I am going to regret being a part of whatever you’re cooking up.”

“Oh, Detective,” he drawled with a light laugh.

“Seriously, Lucifer,” she started with another shake of her head.  “Whatever you’re planning on—”  The last words of her warning caught in her throat as the backs of her hips hit the edge of the countertop.  His hands settled on her sides as he closed the remaining space between them.

“Up,” he ordered, gently tugging at her with an upwards motion.  She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to argue but he tipped his head, his suddenly serious features warding off any contention she had.  “Up,” he whispered.  Against her better judgment, Chloe placed the heels of her palms on the lip of the countertop and lifted herself.  Lucifer’s hands slid from her hips to her knees, his fingers running along the outside of her thighs, his thumbs along the inside.  “Time really is not on our side, Detective.  I need your answer.  A truthful one.  Do you trust me?”  She nodded slowly.

“Yes,” she whispered.  “I trust you.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he offered genuinely. 

“I know,” she breathed.  A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“And you _won’t_ regret it.”  His eyes dropped to focus on her mouth as he stepped between her knees and leaned into her, ignoring the soft hum she started to voice in protest.  Chloe’s hands quickly rose to his chest in an attempt to maintain some sense of space between their bodies.  When his lips met hers, however, her hurried movements slowed then stopped.  Lucifer’s larger-than-life presence was enough to surround her, but with the addition of his left arm snaked around her waist, the fingers of his right hand tangled in her hair, he completely overwhelmed her. 

Yet the incursion was not the brazen assault she expected from him.  His hold was gentle, not at all restraining.  The hand that cradled the back of her head did so with a soft, almost careful tenderness.  And his lips…softer, cooler than she would have expected.  The delicate half-kisses he slowly peppered over her mouth left a curious warmth in their wake, stirring an incoherent string of stray thoughts she would rather keep buried.

Pushing aside the sudden intrusion of feelings, Chloe tried to ground herself in the reality of the situation.  Lucifer had a plan.  What it was, beyond impulsive and more than likely irresponsible, she didn’t know.  She would have a difficult time explaining this to anyone from the precinct who happened upon the knowledge, it wasn’t as though they were working this case undercover, yet fighting him off would certainly attract the wrong kind of attention.  However misguided she felt his tactics to be, she knew it would not work in their favor if she didn’t appear as a willing participant.  Reluctantly giving in to playing the part, she leaned into him, ran her hands up his chest and towards his shoulders as she tried to return the kiss.  A small frown floated across her brow as Lucifer’s fingers gently tightened their twist in her hair and lightly pulled, separating their mouths.  Pulling a little more, he drew her head back until her neck was exposed.  He placed a brush of a kiss on her collarbone and then skimmed his lips up her neck, barely touching her skin as he took a slow, deep breath.  Her fingers curled nervously against his shirt, her lips parted as his mouth drifted over her chin.

Lucifer took her mouth in a passionate, involved kiss and Chloe could not suppress her body’s reaction to arch into him.  His arm fell from her waist as he drew his hand across the back of her hips then moved it upwards, following the curving motion as it presented itself.  His fingers spread across the middle of her back, securing the proximity of their bodies.  He braced his weight against the front of the cabinet with his thighs and leaned slightly over her, gently urging her backwards with the full length of his torso pressing against her.  Her hands finally found their way over his shoulders, wrists locking behind his neck.  He moaned quietly, appreciative of her response, and she sighed as the low, soft sound he made trembled against her lips.  His hands slid along her back, crossing paths between her shoulders as they switched positions, as he left her mouth long enough to tip his head in the opposite direction.  As Lucifer reclaimed her lips, his kiss slowed, softened, and Chloe found herself drowning in him.  He was wrong, she thought.  She was _absolutely_ going to regret this.

“What’s going on in here?”  Lucifer pulled back quickly and offered an exaggerated roll of his eyes as he turned towards the guard standing in the doorway.

“Oh no.  You’ve caught us.”  His hand remained on Chloe’s hip to keep her on the countertop.  “Bucket list, man,” he hissed.  He shook his head and reached into the breast pocket of his suit coat.  “Here,” he said, holding two one-hundred dollar bills towards the guard.  He met the man’s eyes and smiled.  “Go on, uh…”

“Peter,” the guard answered slowly.

“Go on.  Peter.  Take it.  It’s all yours if you’ll let us stay.”  Peter eyed the bills warily but made no effort to reach for them.  “Go on,” Lucifer urged again.  “I know you want to.”

“You can’t stay here,” Peter said.  “College kids break in here all of the time.”  Lucifer’s smiled dropped as he frowned.  “But you _can_ use the office next door.  No one will be in there until morning.  You’ll have the privacy.”

“Ooh.”  Lucifer turned back to Chloe.  “Did you hear that, Darling?” he asked with a wink.  Turning back to the guard, he waved his hand.  “Yours.”  Peter took the money and left the room.  Lucifer pulled Chloe from the countertop, making a note to strike up a future conversation about the rosy nature of her cheeks, and laced their fingers as he followed the guard into the hallway.  Peter pulled a ring from his belt and sifted through several keys before shoving one into the slot in the doorknob. 

“Don’t let me catch you again,” he said as he opened the door.  “Lock up when you leave.”  The guard nodded and walked away, whistling quietly.  Lucifer chuckled, pulled Chloe into the office and turned on the light.

“How was _that_ for a stroke of good luck?” he asked as he closed the door, pressing her against it in the process.

“Good luck?” she asked incredulously.  “I thought you said you had a plan!  That _wasn’t_ your plan?”

“It _was_ my plan,” he defended.  “I knew we would be discovered, yet not reprimanded.  I just wasn’t expecting the guard to let us into this room without quite a bit of persuasion,” he admitted.  “I mean,” he started with a laugh, “I was ready to whip out the big guns!”  The lock clicked loudly as he turned it.  “Now.”  He smiled and tipped his head as he flattened his palms against the door to either side of her shoulders.  “Where were we?”  Chloe placed her hands on his chest and stopped him from leaning in to reconnect their lips.

“Following your lead,” she answered.

“Then why are you pushing me away?”

“Your lead for the _case_.”

“Spoil sport,” he chided playfully.  He dropped his hands and circled his fingers around her wrists.  “You know, Detective,” he started as he walked backwards, pulling her towards the desk, “I could certainly become wont to such investigative techniques.”

“That will _not_ be happening again,” she said sternly.  “We will not be kissing.”

“Please.”  Lucifer laughed lightly and released her wrists as he stepped behind her.  “You said the same of it happening in the first place.”  He leaned over her shoulder, placing his mouth near her ear.  “And yet, happen it did.”

“You took advantage of that situation,” she accused.

“Of course I did.”  He placed his hands on her hips and guided her around the desk.  “I _created_ the situation.  Would have been a bloody fool not to take advantage.  Don’t lie to yourself, Detective,” he drawled, a heavy hint of satisfaction in his tone.  He positioned her in front of the bookcase, keeping his stance behind her.  “You enjoyed that little foray.”  Before she could respond, he slipped his arm around her waist, the other lifting a pointing finger.  She followed his direction to a thin book pinched between two much thicker books and narrowed her eyes.

“Is that…”

“The missing journal,” he finished proudly.

“But how…”  She turned in his arm, expectant eyes meeting his.

“Do you really want to know that, Detective?”  Chloe studied his face for a moment, watching as he tried, and failed, to maintain an innocent expression.

“Probably not,” she admitted.  “We need to call the lieutenant.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay.”  She nodded. 

“Very well.”

“So you can let go of me now.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear friends, please forgive my absence and the slow postings to follow (though on the positive side of these sleepless nights, I have two chapters to post this time around). My father passed away October 30th. The last few weeks have been extremely difficult and very busy (the amount of phone calls and paperwork a person has to do following the death of a loved one is absolutely ridiculous!). I have been spending some extra time with Mom and my brothers and sister, and with the holidays around us, we are clinging to each other as never before. After a severe infection, an amputation, two years of three-day-a-week dialysis, the placement of a pace maker, several hospital stays and trips to the ER, my father taught us to keep up the good fight. The journey, after all, is what makes the biggest difference. Love to all of you.

“And as it turns out,” Lucifer started excitedly, “my hunch proved correct.”  He turned around, a proud smile on his face, and placed a bottle and two empty shot glasses on the bar top in front of Chloe.  She returned his smile but shook her head.

“Hunch my ass,” she stated.  He laughed lightly.

“Yes, hunch.  And yes…”  He sighed contently.  “Your ass.”

“You don’t lie,” she said, breezing over his comment.  “So this is…not the full truth?”  He shrugged and offered a quiet hum.

“The important thing is that we found the journal.”  She leaned forward, resting her arms on the bar top.

“Of all the things you could have done to get us into that office,” she laughed gently.  “I wasn’t expecting that.”  He licked his lips and bent forward, mirroring her position.

“Where’s the fun in expecting?” he asked with a smile.  “Besides, if I would have told you the plan, would you have played along?”

“No,” she answered.  “Absolutely not.”

“And then we would have _no_ journal,” he said, playfully tapping his finger on the tip of her nose.  Lucifer straightened and turned his attention to the glasses, filling both nearly to the rims.  “So, one point to me.”  He picked up one of the glasses and pushed the other towards Chloe.  She shook her head.

“I should really get to the station, Lucifer; wait for that warrant.”

“Oh, just one drink, Detective,” he goaded, pushing the glass closer to her.  He held his in the air.  “A toast,” he suggested.  “To one _hell_ of a find.”  She nodded slowly and closed her fingers around the proffered glass.

“I will admit that was…something.”  She lifted her glass, clinked it against his and obediently downed the shot.  Lucifer followed suit and quickly refilled both glasses.

“You know, there _are_ other things we could do to celebrate.”  He rounded the bar, glass and bottle in hand, and sat in the stool to Chloe’s left.

“Hmm, no.”  She shook a finger in his direction.  “I’m not sleeping with you, Lucifer.”

“Really?” he asked skeptically.

“Really.”

“Well, I call bullshit.”

“You can’t call bullshit on that,” she laughed.

“Detective Decker,” he drawled under a slow laugh.  “You tickle my funny bone.”  He turned on the barstool until he squarely faced her.  “I tell you I am the devil and what do you say?”

“Bullshit,” she answered.

“Right!” he exclaimed, pointing towards her.  “You say you won’t sleep with me, yet _I_ cannot call bullshit?”  Lucifer scoffed a laugh.  “That’s quite a double standard, is it not?”

“Those are two _completely_ different things, Lucifer.”

“Are they?  Perhaps in substance, but not in principle.”  She rested her chin on her shoulder, her features expressionless, and regarded him for a long moment.  He simply tipped his head, eyes sparkling as a subtle smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re right,” she agreed with a nod.  “They _are_ the same.  It’s just as likely I will sleep with you as it is likely you are the _actual_ devil.”

“My, my.”  His eyes darkened and his smile fell into a serious, sultry mien.  “Then what _are_ you waiting for?”  Chloe looked away with a short laugh.  “You’re flustered,” he noted, amusement in his voice.

“I,” she started, breathing through a chuckle. “I am not flustered.”

“ _That_ is a lie,” he stated ardently.  She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.  He offered an unapologetic shrug.  “You have obvious tells.”

“Whatever.”

“You do,” he defended.  “When you’re flustered, you giggle in such a fashion.  Just as when you’re irritated, you bite at the inside of your cheek.  Or when you’re tired, you tuck your hair behind your ear.  The right ear,” he quickly interjected, “in case you’re wondering.  And you make the gesture even if no lock of hair is loose.”  She huffed another laugh.  “Or when you’re frightened, you pull your shirtsleeves over your hands.”  Chloe glared at him.

“I am _not_ flustered,” she repeated.  “And I do _not_ laugh when I am.”  Lucifer leaned back against the short back of the barstool as she looked away.  He rested his elbow on the edge of the bar, watching her finger as it traced the rim of her full glass.  With a slight tip of her head, her hair fell from its tucked position behind her ear and flowed over her shoulder, veiling the side of her face from his vision.  Chloe Decker, he mused.  His perfect little box of mysteries.  Here she remained, motionless on the stool despite stating her intention of returning to the station.  Here she remained, toying with a second shot despite initially turning down the first.  Here she remained, hiding yet in full view.  His perfect little box, begging him to lift the lid.

“You’re so far away, Darling,” he drawled.  “Almost as though you’re purposely putting space between us.”

“I’m not.”

“If I truly have no effect on you, then come over here and tell me so.”

“I’ve already told you so.  Several times, in fact.”  She lifted the glass to her mouth and quickly swallowed the shot.  “What would make this time any different?”

“Perhaps your previous declarations were not believable.”  Lucifer straightened and placed his hands on his knees.  “So come over,” he baited lightly with a raised eyebrow.  “Convince me.”  Chloe licked her lips, removing the last taste of alcohol.  She pushed off the barstool and slowly, purposefully covered the two steps between them, placing herself between his parted knees.

“I do not care how many innuendos you make, how many offers you make, how many times you end up naked in front of me—”

“How many times we make out whilst trespassing,” he added with a playful roll of his eyes.  She huffed a sharp sigh, took a breath and continued her speech.

“There will never, ever, _ever_ ,” she started, leaning into him, their faces close, “be a ‘you and I’ in _that_ sense.”  She poked a stern finger into his chest to accentuate her words.  Satisfied she had made her point, she started to back away, only to discover his arms around her waist, his hands resting along the small of her back.  The break in her movement opposed her balance and she instinctively lifted her hands, placing them on his upper arms to steady herself.

“Oh, snared in the arms of the devil, are you?” Lucifer asked quietly.  He shifted forward on the stool, negating nearly half of the small distance between their bodies.  “This is an interesting habit of yours,” he said, tilting his head to the side.  “You get close, touchy…flirty.  Then you insult me and leave.”  He laughed gently and wove his fingers together as he pulled her closer.  “Yet earlier…”  He shook his head softly.  “You cannot tell me our little excursion in the museum didn’t…pique your curiosity.”

“No.  Lucifer—”

“Or maybe satisfy part of it?” he interrupted gently.  “Oh, Detective, I could satisfy _so_ much more,” he whispered.  Chloe slowly shook her head.

“Lucifer,” she breathed, unable to muster any voice of caution.  “You can’t—”

“In all honesty,” he interrupted again, “I do enjoy the challenge of this game of hard to get.”

“I’m not playing hard to—”

“Though at some point, you are going to have to make good on the teasing.”  His gaze dropped to her mouth as he released a wanton hum.  “Or I may…”  He slowly drew closer to her.  “Just…”  Her eyes fluttered to a close as he moved in.  “Spontaneously…combust.”  He whispered the last word against her mouth, the subtle contact parting her lips.  “Yes,” he breathed as her fingers gently tightened against his arms.  His hand floated up her back, his fingers skimming the skin on her neck before tangling slowly in her hair.  “Give in, Detective.”  He tilted his head to the left, his eyes taking in every blushed feature of her face.

“Lucifer, you…you shouldn’t…”  She sighed quietly.  “Can’t…”

“Why not?” he pressed carefully.  “What harm would it do, hmm?  One _incredible_ night,” he explained with a soft yet charged tone.  “Or several, if you so wish.  And I do hope you so wish.  Surrender to your longing, Detective,” he whispered.  He waited a moment, watching a slight crinkle crease her brow, before leaning in and brushing his lips against her cheek.  “Tell me what you desire,” he breathed near her ear.  “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“Lucifer!”  Maze’s sharp voice pierced the air.  Lucifer pulled back but kept his hold and his eyes on Chloe as she pulled her hands from his arms to the space between their bodies.

“Yes, Maze?” he called gently.  “What may I do for you?”

“It’s time to open,” she snapped.  He looked over the detective’s shoulder to Maze.

“Very well.”  Maze released a low, irritated growl and he laughed lightly as she stormed out of the immediate area.  As he returned his focus to Chloe, she slowly opened her eyes, avoiding meeting his gaze.  He removed his fingers from her hair, curled one under her chin and gently forced her to look at him.  “So many interruptions to come,” he noted as he took in her wide, dark eyes.  “Maybe we should move this elsewhere.”

“I…I should get…go to…the station,” she stammered.  “I…the case.”  He traced a finger down the center of her bottom lip.

“Cop mode.”

“Yeah.”  She nodded slowly.

“Well, you’ll need this.”  He reached into his pocket, his fingers searching for the elastic band he had taken from her while at the museum.  “Though I rather like your hair free from its confines.”  She tipped her head in question.  “Much easier to do this.”  He pulled his hand from his pocket, lifted the other from her waist, and brushed the tips of his fingers across her cheeks.  With a gentle touch, he raked through her hair until he reached the back of her head and then pulled her in with the intention of kissing her.

“Lucifer!” Maze yelled from the balcony.  Chloe tensed, startled out of the moment by the screaming of her partner’s name.  Lucifer lifted his gaze towards his demon, his eyes harsh with anger at the second interruption.  “Can I open the doors or not?”  He dropped his hands to Chloe’s waist and loosely wrapped his arms around her.

“If you must,” he answered with a sharp tip of his head.  Maze crossed her arms and defiantly returned his stare.  He huffed a quick breath and looked at Chloe.  Her eyes were closed and her breathing, though slow, trembled.  A soft movement against his chest drew his attention to her hands.  He watched her fingers curl around the fabric of her shirtsleeves, pulling at each section until her hands were covered.  “Detective?” he prodded gently.  She took a deep, shuddered breath and shook her head.

“I need…to go.”

“Detective, wait,” he started as she pulled herself from his hold.

“I’m going…going to go.”  Chloe turned and headed towards the staircase.

“Detective,” he called again as he stood.  “Please.”

“I’ll call you when the warrant comes in.”  She quickly took the stairs and pressed her shoulder closely to the wall opposite Maze as she moved towards the door.  Maze simply smiled widely as she watched the detective’s hasty exit.  Chloe placed the sides of her fisted hands against the door as she pushed to open it.  Her fingers were no longer visible, the fabric of her shirt stretched over her hands, the openings securely bunched beneath the curled digits.

“That’s not…that’s not right,” Lucifer breathed as he slowly moved towards the staircase.  Maze folded her fingers around the railing as she leaned forward and met Lucifer’s eyes.

“Lots of hotties in the line tonight,” she said.  “Can’t wait to play with them.”  She smiled and winked before turning away.

“Mazikeen!” Lucifer yelled.  She stopped immediately and turned back to him.  “I think you and I need to have a bit of a chat.”

“Don’t worry,” she said as he took the stairs two at a time.  “I’ll share with you.”  When he reached her side, he tightly wrapped his fingers around her upper arm.

“Upstairs,” he said as he yanked her towards the elevator.  “Now.”  They rode the lift in silence, Lucifer’s grip unyielding.  He did not wait for the doors to open fully before dragging Maze into the middle of the penthouse.  She skipped through a few jumbled steps and laughed with delight as Lucifer spun her to face him.

“Rough tonight, huh?”  She slid her hands up his chest and stepped forward to press her body against his.  “Whatever you want, Boss.”

“What did you do to her, Maze?” he demanded, shaking her back a step.

“Her who?”

“The detective,” he bit through clenched teeth.  She ripped her arms from his hold and her face contorted into an angry scowl.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Do _not_ lie to me!” he yelled.

“I’m not lying.  I _didn’t_ do anything.”

“I don’t believe you.  There’s something…different about the way she reacts around you.  Last night when you brought up the lovely young woman,” he started.  “And tonight as she was leaving Lux.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Why is she suddenly so afraid of you?”  She lifted her eyebrows and ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth.

“Huh.”

“’Huh’?  What the hell does that mean?”

“I paid her a visit the other night,” Maze shrugged.

“You paid her…”  Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Details, Maze.  All of them.  Now.”

“There are no details to give, Lucifer.  I went to her house.  She was sleeping.  I _was_ going to kill her.”  She folded her arms in front of her chest and smiled proudly.  “But, I didn’t.”

“Why the bloody hell would you kill her?”

“She’s affecting you, Lucifer.  Changing you.”  She stepped closer.  “She’s a problem and a danger to you.”  He shook his head.

“She was sleeping?” he asked.

“Yeah.  All scrunched in her stupid chair.  Papers everywhere,” she said with a wide sweep of her arms.

“The nightmare,” he said absently.

“What nightmare?”

“Maze, are you certain she didn’t see you?”

“Yes, I am.  I left when she started to wake up.”  She tipped her head.  “What nightmare?” she repeated.  He walked away, shaking his head slowly as he moved through the room.

“She must have felt your presence.”  He leaned the heels of his palms on the edge of his piano.

“So what?” she scoffed.

“So what?”  He laughed cynically as he dropped his head.

“I didn’t hurt her,” she stated.  “So you can’t be angry with me.”

“Oh, Mazie.  I _can_ be.”  He looked over his shoulder at her.  “And I am.  Detective Decker is off limits.”

“Since when?”

“Since always!”

“Oh,” she laughed.  “Here you go again.  This…”  She waved her hands towards him.  “Whatever it is that you have going on with this _human_ needs to stop and it needs to stop now.”  Lucifer paced a short length alongside the piano.  “I understand the infatuation.  She’s hot,” Maze nodded.  “I’d want her, too.  But this whole playing cop bullshit…”  She shook her head.  “You’re going to get yourself killed, Lucifer.  And Chloe Decker is going to face _all_ kinds of wrath from me!”  He stopped pacing and turned sharply to face her.

“I do not want you anywhere near the detective.”

“And what’s to stop me?”

“Seriously?”  Lucifer stepped to Maze, towering over her smaller frame.  “Defying my orders, Maze?”

“If that’s what it takes to protect you then yes!  I _am_ defying your orders!”

“Very well.”  He straightened and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt.  “You know where the door is.  Find it.  And don’t come back.”  She turned, eyes following him as he brushed past her and moved towards the elevator.

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Bingo!”  He hit the call button for the lift and waited with his back to her.

“Aww.  The big bad devil throwing a temper tantrum over his little human,” she taunted.  “Rather petty for the Lord of Hell, isn’t it?”  He slowly turned towards her, an angry expression on his face.

“You had best be gone when I return.”

“Where are you going?”

“ _That_ is no longer your concern.”  The elevator doors opened and he stepped back into the car.

**Lucifer**

Chloe opened her eyes and stared blankly through the window.  The night was hazy as the last of a weak patch of storm clouds fizzled through their last drops of rain.  The terror that had overcome her at Lux was finally starting to drift away, allowing her to reign in the uncontrolled emotional state.  Lucifer had been correct about her nightmare; it had been affecting her in the days since its appearance.  Not one of the fleeting moments of creeping fear had captured her like the latest instance, however.  Standing at the bar in Lux, wrapped in Lucifer’s arms, unable to think about or concentrate on anything besides the heavy want he caused her to feel, she had been blindsided by the sudden and sharp intrusion of fear.

Lucifer.

With a soft sigh, Chloe turned away from the window and looked down at her hands as the rested in her lap.  Her fingers still clutched her shirtsleeves, though not as tightly as they had when she had left Lux.  Lucifer had been correct about that, as well.  He had pointed out every time she had covered her hands, had seemed to know when she had been afraid.  Every time, she thought.  He had been with her each time it had happened except the night of the dream.  Tightly closing her eyes, Chloe conjured the image of her nightmare, the black limbo that surrounded her, that consumed her.  She placed Lucifer within the swirl but his presence didn’t fit.  He didn’t belong in the chaos; he was not the cause of her fear.  Shaking the thought from her head, Chloe mentally berated herself.  She trusted Lucifer on a level she couldn’t describe, on a level she had never experienced with another person.  He had never been anything but honest with her and she felt safe with him.

After their kiss at the museum, after their heady conversation at Lux, she had no reason to believe he would ever hurt her.  Shortly after their initial meeting, Lucifer had pointed out the connection they shared.  She could no longer deny it.  Something drew the two of them together.  The memory of Lucifer’s arms around her, of his fingers in her hair, his lips on her skin flooded her mind and she smiled softly.  How could a man so honest with her, so gentle and careful with her hurt her?

“You gonna answer that?”  Chloe’s eyes snapped open and settled on the back of the seat in front of her.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your phone.”  The driver stopped the car at the red light and turned to look over his shoulder at her.  “It’s ringing.”

“Oh.”  She frantically searched her coat pockets for the device.  “Sorry.  Thank you.”  He nodded and turned his attention to the road.  Chloe opened the incoming text message from Lieutenant Monroe and sighed upon reading it.  GET HERE. NOW.  “Shit,” she muttered.

**Lucifer**

“I left a very important dinner to be here, Decker,” Olivia started as Chloe entered the office.  “You better have a damn good reason for calling in this warrant.”

“Ma’am,” Chloe said as she approached the desk.  “Lucifer and I read through Mrs. Lloyd’s journals.  She outlines every affair her husband had, names every woman.  Except for one.  She also writes about how she was afraid her husband would hurt her.  We think there’s another journal, one that gives all the details and names we need to prove Henry murdered his wife.”  She tapped her fingertips on the edge of the desk.  “Lucifer and I found a journal that matches the ones from Mrs. Lloyd’s house.  In her office at the museum.”

“I told you that you could not ask to go into that office.”

“We didn’t ask to go in,” she explained quickly.  “The guard told us to; he let us in.”

“Why?”  Chloe took a breath, hesitating to give an answer.  “Detective, I asked you a question.”

“Um…Privacy,” she answered quietly.

“Privacy,” Olivia repeated.  “Close the door, Decker.”

**Lucifer**

Lucifer wandered the brightly lit hallway of the station, still fuming from his conversation with Maze.  The damn little demon, reaching far beyond her duties of protections.  She had no right to harm Chloe Decker.  Yes, something about the detective caused changes within the devil, but Lucifer was not blind to the ramifications of that development.  He was perfectly capable of watching his own back while around the blonde woman.  Maze’s job was to protect him from threats of a less personal nature.

“Detective,” Lucifer sighed with relief.  “There you are.”

“Hey,” she greeted with a gentle nod.  “I was just about to call you.”

“Oh?” he smiled.  “Do you have the warrant?”

“Not yet,” she replied.  “But Mr. Lloyd and his lawyer just showed up.  Thought maybe we could ask a few questions, poke around a bit while his lawyer is talking to Monroe.”

“Yes, poke around.”  He absently waved his hand.  “Detective, I need to ask you something.”

“Can it wait?” she asked.  “Until we’ve talked to Mr. Lloyd?”  She smiled widely.  “We’re going to get him this time, Lucifer.  I can feel it.”

“Right.”  He returned the smile, with much less enthusiasm, and nodded.  “Of course.  Lead the way.”  He followed Chloe through the main office area of the station and into a small conference room.

“Mr. Lloyd,” she greeted with a forced smile as she entered the room.  She dropped into the chair across the table from Henry.  “We found Katrina’s journal.”

“What journal?” he asked, crossing his arms.  “Oh, the mythical thing you were babbling on about earlier today?”

“Yeah, except it’s not so mythical.”  Henry leaned forward, his eyes scanning the empty table between them.

“Well?  Where is it?”

“All in good time, Henry,” Lucifer stated as he stepped forward to stand behind Chloe.  “We’re waiting for the warrant.”

“Okay,” Henry laughed.  “Then by all means.  Let’s wait.”  He leaned back in his chair and made a show of making himself comfortable.

“Mr. Lloyd—”

“Detective?”  Chloe released an exasperated sigh at the interruption and turned towards the officer in the doorway.  “Monroe wants to see you.”

“Of course she does,” she muttered.  Sliding from the chair, she looked at Lucifer.  “Behave.  And do _not_ say one word.”  He watched her walk out of the room and waited until she was halfway across the squad room before closing the door.  Turning his large smile towards Henry, Lucifer sat in Chloe’s chair and lightly tapped his fingers on the metal table as he stared at the mortal man.

“What?” Henry spat, unnerved under the devil’s gaze.

“I’m curious,” Lucifer started.  “How many of The Seven did you commit, Dear Henry?  Let’s see, Lust.”  He held up a single finer.  “Greed…Wrath…Envy,” he continued, lifting a digit for each item he listed.  “Hmm.”  He looked at his hand and wiggled his fingers.  “You’re four for seven.  Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.”

“Really?  The Seven Deadly Sins?” Henry laughed.  “Let me guess, no sin, right?” he asked, pointing towards Lucifer.  “Who the hell are you to judge?”

“Oh, I’m not judging.  No, no.  _That_ is Father’s job.  I’m just here to dispense the punishment necessary for your transgressions.”

“I don’t know what you’re problem is.  I didn’t kill my wife.”

“I suppose there is a chance you were _not_ the one to pull the proverbial trigger,” Lucifer conceded.  “However, your prints are all over the figurative one.”

“Why can’t you just accept the facts you have in hand?”

“That’s just it, Henry.  What we have are not facts.  They’re lies,” Lucifer snapped.  “All lies until we get our hands on the beautiful, hard-covered chronicle of sins your spouse so diligently recorded for you.”  He tipped his head slightly and offered a gentle smile.  “ _I_ want the truth, Henry.  What is it that _you_ want?”

**Lucifer**

“Lieutenant, please,” Chloe pleaded.

“There’s no arguing my decision, Detective.  You’re off the case.”  Olivia folded her arms across her desk.  “The entire case may be compromised.  You’re going after a man without any evidence of his involvement in the crime.  And your actions have been over the line.”

“I know, it’s just—”

“It’s nothing.”  Olivia turned her attention to the middle-aged man in the chair next to Chloe.  “Mr. Stevens, I hope you and Mr. Lloyd will accept my apology.”  He held up a hand and gently shook his head.

“My client does not want a verbal apology, Lieutenant,” he replied.  “You know that.”

“What does that mean?” Chloe asked with a frown.

“I’m not sure the situation warrants that type of action,” Olivia said.

“I would beg to differ,” Stevens argued.  “What your detective and her…civilian consultant have been doing is borderline harassment of Mr. Lloyd.  Showing up at his home without justification, threatening my client with arrest, breaking into his late wife’s former office.”

“We didn’t break in,” Chloe defended.  “We were let into the office.”

“By a security guard that has no authorization to do so,” he added, rolling his eyes towards her.  “Not to mention you were there under…”  He laughed lightly.  “Well, you were there literally under your partner.”  Chloe took a deep breath as she felt her cheeks redden.  “I’m sure that technique is not listed anywhere in the ‘how to be a detective’ manual.”  Stevens shifted in his seat.  “Speaking of your partner, where is he?”  Olivia’s eyes shifted to Chloe.

“Detective, where _is_ Mr. Morningstar?” she asked.

“He’s in the conference room with Mr. Lloyd,” Chloe answered.  She sighed and dropped her shoulders.

“Questioning my client without properly bringing him in _and_ without his lawyer present?  Add that to the list of no-nos.”  He regarded Olivia.  “I think I’ve made my case for the desired course of action.”  She nodded.

“Detective Decker,” she said as she stood.  She waited a brief moment for Chloe and Stevens to stand as well.  “Detective, you leave me no choice.  Not only will you be officially removed from this case, but you are suspended for the next two weeks.”

“What?  Lieutenant, that’s not…you can’t.”  Stevens smiled as Chloe protested.

“I can.”

“I’ll give you two a minute.”  Olivia waited until Stevens was out of the room before continuing.

“Chloe, on top of everything else, everything that’s questionable with your investigation, you left Lucifer in the room, alone with Mr. Lloyd.  Mr. Lloyd is not here formally for questioning.  His lawyer isn’t present to ensure his rights are not violated.  And he’s in the conference room, Chloe.  There are no cameras in that room so if Mr. Lloyd says Lucifer did something or said something…”  Chloe dropped her eyes to the floor and nodded.  “I would have to take Mr. Lloyd at his word.  Mr. Morningstar is a civilian; he doesn’t know all of the rules.  It’s your job as his partner to keep him from crossing the line.”

“I know, Ma’am.  I’m sorry.”

“I made a deal.  Mr. Morningstar will remain a civilian consultant as long as he’s willing or until he shows me he cannot be trusted or is no longer useful.  However, his continued involvement in this case would cause some ethical issues.  Since you are suspended, I guess that means he is, too.  Go home, Decker.  Two weeks.”  Chloe couldn’t contain the roll of her eyes.  “Is that a problem, Detective?”

“No, Ma’am.”  Olivia moved to the front of the desk and stood in front of Chloe.

“You know if there’s something…beyond the job that’s…upsetting you that you can talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” Chloe answered.

“Are you sure?  This doesn’t have anything to do with what happened between you and Dan?”

“I said I was fine,” Chloe repeated harshly.  She quickly left the office and fought the urge to turn around and punch Stevens as he followed her to the conference room.

**Lucifer**

“I know you want to tell me, Henry,” Lucifer continued, a slight chuckle to his voice.  “What do you desire, hmm?”  He flattened his palms on the metal table and stood as he continued to stare down the lawyer.

“I, uh, I just wanted—”

“Your wife dead, yes?”

“Well, I…I guess—”

“Lucifer!”

“Ah!” Lucifer yelled in frustration.  He elegantly spun on his heel, shifting his intense gaze to Chloe as she stood in the doorway, arms crossed.  “I was _this_ close, Detective.”

“I told you not to say a word.”

“No, you said not to say _one_ word.”  He shrugged.  “I said several.”

“We’re done here, Lucifer.”

“No, we’re not,” he argued.

“Yes, we are.  This is George Stevens, Henry’s lawyer.”  She stepped to the side allowing Stevens to enter the room.  He held out a hand in greeting.  Lucifer cringed and pulled away.

“Ugh.  Do you have any idea how many lawyers are in Hell?” Lucifer asked.

“Funny, like I haven’t heard that one before,” he answered, retracting his hand.

“Not from anyone who has seen it firsthand.  Your kind seriously crawls right out of the woodwork.  Quite honestly,” he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets, “it gives me the creeps.”

“Come on, Lucifer,” Chloe said.  “Let’s go.”  He followed her out of the room and through the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” he stated with a shake of his head.  He took her elbow, stopping her movement.  “Am I not understanding how this works?  Do you or do you not want a confession for Mrs. Lloyd’s murder?”

“Of course I want a confession,” she answered.

“He is the _right_ person, Detective!  The one to give us that confession!”

“I think so, too.  But if we don’t do this the right way Henry will walk.  And then no one will be punished for Mrs. Lloyd’s death.  Or Maggie’s or Johnson’s.”  He frowned and shook his head.

“Rules,” he spat.

“Yes, rules.”

“Well, these rules you humans insist on obeying are obscene.  They are entirely too complex.  Yet take the ten simple rules Father gave you and let the debate begin!” he yelled throwing his arms into the air.  Chloe sighed and closed her eyes.

“Father?”

“Yes!  The Ten Commandments, my dear detective.  Of course, I have always argued ‘Thou shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife’ and I guess I really never followed any that had to do with Father, but then again, those rules were not made for angels.”

“Lucifer,” she warned.

“My point, Detective, is that Henry,” he said, pointing down the hall, “has broken nearly all of them.”

“Yeah, well we don’t arrest people based on breaking the Ten Commandments.”

“Maybe you should,” he huffed.  “It would no doubt make your job much easier, much more cut and dry.”  She shook her head and walked away.  He sighed heavily and followed Chloe through the station and to her desk.  She pulled her coat from the back of her chair and shoved her arms into the sleeves.  “Where are we going?” he asked as she yanked her bag from the bottom desk drawer.

“We’re leaving.  I’m going home; you’re going…wherever it is you go when you’re not bothering the hell out of me.”

“What about our case?”  She moved to his side, pinning him with an angry glare.

“We’ve been taken off the case, Lucifer.  And I’ve been suspended for the next two weeks.”  He frowned and slipped his hands into his pockets.

“Bummer.”  She exhaled sharply.

“Bummer?  I _really_ do not like you right now.”  Chloe turned and stalked towards the elevator.  “This is your fault,” she muttered, forcefully pushing the call button.  “You _have_ to learn to play by the rules, Lucifer.  All of them, to the letter.”

“Is this because of our little dalliance in Mrs. Lloyd’s office?” he asked with a smile.

“It wasn’t a dalliance,” she clarified.  “It was a mistake.”

“I wouldn’t call it a mistake.  I thought it proved to be rather effective.”

“Effective at getting us kicked off the case.”  The doors opened and Chloe stepped inside.  She quickly hit the button for the parking level.

“So what happens to the case now?” Lucifer asked as he joined her.

“Someone else gets it,” she explained.  “Provided Lieutenant Monroe doesn’t completely shut it down.  Depends on how much damage your little stunt at the museum caused.”  He laughed lowly.

“My little stunt,” he breathed through the hilarity.  “You are just as much a part of that _little stunt_ as I am, Detective.”

“No, I’m really not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he smiled.  “Rules were made to be broken, Detective,” he said in a more serious tone.  “Or, at least bent a little.”  She turned to him and shook her head.

“Not when it comes to taking murderers off the street.”  The elevator doors opened and she stormed off towards her vehicle.  Lucifer sighed and slipped his hands into his pockets as he trailed behind her.

“Let me make it up to you,” he insisted.  “How about I take you to Lux and get you drunk?”

“Really?” she scoffed, tightly closing her eyes.

“Really.”  As she turned to him, he tipped his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as he waited for her answer.

“No.  I’m going home.”  Chloe turned and wandered farther into the rows of neatly parked vehicles.

“Splendid,” Lucifer muttered sarcastically.


	8. Chapter 8

“At any rate,” Lucifer said, dismissively waving a hand, “she’s rather irritated with me.  No, not irritated.  She’s actually _quite_ angry.”  Linda simply nodded.

“Have you spoken to her since last night?”

“I called her a couple of times this morning, but she didn’t answer.”  He shook his head and dropped his eyes.  “If I truly caused her suspension…I didn’t mean for that to happen.  I was just trying to help.”

“I believe your intentions were well meant.”

“Yes, well.  We all know what paves the road to Hell, don’t we?”

“Hmm.  Lucifer,” Linda started as she adjusted her glasses.  “I know you had the best intentions in mind.  And I’m sure Chloe does, too, even though she’s angry with you right now.  For future reference though,” she said through a small smile, “that’s probably not the best of ways to bend the rules.”  Lucifer smiled widely.

“I’m not sure I agree with that assessment, Doctor.  It’s my favorite way to bend the rules.”  He sat back and spread his arms across the back of the sofa as he winked at her.

“You know what I mean,” she laughed lightly.

“I do.”

“However, what’s done is done.  We can’t change that.  But we _can_ learn from it.”

“So no more surprise make-out sessions to further a case?”

“Right.  No more.”

“Learn…from it.”  Lucifer rolled his eyes and groaned.  “Is this the part where we discuss my feelings on the matter?”

“It most certainly is.”  Linda offered a large smile of her own.  “You said Chloe was angry at you.  How does that make you feel?”

“Well, I don’t like it.  As I said, I was simply trying to help.  Had it been a simple failure…”  He stopped, unsure how to explain.

“But it wasn’t a simple failure.  You don’t care at all about that part, do you?”

“No,” he answered honestly.  “I don’t.”

“You care about the detective’s feelings.”

“It isn’t…it’s not so much…”  He frowned.  “I don’t like that I disappointed her.”  His eyes flicked to Linda’s.  “Oh.”

“Yes.  Oh.”  She shifted in her chair.  “This is another part of caring for the detective.  Just as the interactions she has with others, such as her ex-husband, bother _you_ when it affects her.”

“I don’t want to be someone who causes her pain.”  Lucifer stood.  “Yet, in trying to help, I did just that,” he said as he moved to look out the window.

“Sometimes we hurt the people we care about, Lucifer.  It happens even when we don’t want it to or don’t think it will.  That’s all part of the learning curve, understanding what’s been done and figuring out how to keep it from happening again.”

“I understand,” he said quietly.  “I think I may owe the detective an apology.”

“Why?”

“I should apologize for the suspension, for not giving her a heads up about my plan.”  He shook his head gently.

“What about the kiss, Lucifer?  How did Chloe react to that?”

“Quite nicely,” he replied, turning to her with another wide smile.  “She didn’t stop me, if that’s what you’re asking.  And she didn’t reprimand me afterwards.  Actually…”  He returned to the couch, sitting on the edge of the cushion.  “I’m rather surprised about that,” he admitted.  “I was certain there was a severe scolding in my future, but that didn’t happen.  She simply said we would not be doing such a thing a second time, though, to be honest, it was not a very convincing statement.  Yet even in her anger over the suspension, she didn’t mention the kiss itself, only that I needed to play by the rules.”  Linda nodded.  Lucifer sat back and crossed his legs.

“You look pensive.  What are you thinking?”  What _was_ he thinking?  He was thinking about the kiss at the museum.  He was thinking about the conversation he shared with the detective the night before at Lux.  He was thinking about her wrapped in his arms.  He was thinking about the blushed appearance of her face.  He was thinking about how she didn’t pull away when he tried to kiss her.

“Last night, before the detective returned to the station…”  He sighed.  “I tried to kiss her.  Maze interrupted us but I’m certain that if she hadn’t, the detective would have…accepted the gesture.”

“Lucifer, if this is—”

“It’s not part of my big plan to sleep with her,” he said.  “I promise.  That’s no longer my plan.”

“What is your plan?”  His gaze shifted to the floor.

“I just...I don’t have a plan.  She trusts me.  She’s important to me.”  He met Linda’s eyes.  “And I don’t want to lose that.”

“I think you’re starting to accept what Detective Decker means to you; that she’s more than just another pretty face.”  Lucifer nodded.  “I think you’re right, you do owe her an apology.  And you owe yourself some time to figure out exactly what you feel for her.”

**Lucifer**

Chloe slung the heavy, overloaded basket of clothing from her hip to the kitchen table and padded her way across the wooden floor and into her daughter’s bedroom.  She sifted through the clothes in Trixie’s closet, pulling out the empty hangers as she lightly hummed.  As angry as she was to be on a two-week suspension, she was grateful for the extra time she would have with Trixie.  Their morning routine had not been rushed, each able to bath and dress, and enjoy a decent breakfast together.  Chloe had planned her day carefully as she had cooked the meal, hoping to finish as much housework as possible while her daughter was at school.  The afternoon would leave them limited time together before Trixie left to spend the weekend with Dan, and Chloe wanted to soak up every minute possible.

Returning to the basket in the kitchen, Chloe started to dig through the clothing.  She pulled out several of Trixie’s socks, turning each right side out before balling them into pairs.  It had not taken long for her attention to shift to her cell phone at the opposite end of the table.  The green light near the top of the device blinked steadily, a reminder of the voicemails she had yet to access.  She knew the messages were from Lucifer and she had no desire to hear what he had to say.  Chloe rested her arms on the edge of the basket.  She _did_ want to hear what he had to say, though only if it was what she wanted to hear.  She wanted an apology.  Yet for what?  Maybe Lucifer’s plan to get into Mrs. Lloyd’s office was a bit out of bounds, but Chloe knew she would have done the same thing had she been in Lucifer’s position.  He wanted what she wanted, justice for the murdered, punishment for the murderers.  Lucifer was not to blame for her suspension; that she blamed on the undue pressure of Mr. Lloyd and his lawyer.

Pulling a shirt from the basket, Chloe huffed a sarcastic laugh.  Control.  It was all about control.  She liked having control.  She rarely relinquished it and she never let anyone take it from her.  Even as the actions taken and the decisions made by those around her affected her, she refused to remain idle and be victim to the consequences.  She maintained control by deciding for herself how to proceed, and dutifully forging ahead.  Yet as of late, Chloe felt that carefully maintained attitude slipping through her fingers.  She felt herself losing the determination to endure.  Her unravelling was slow, happening just a touch more each day.

The loss was her own, a deeply personal and emotional breakdown.  The anxiety would build and the sadness would grow heavier, and though she knew better, she shoved it all to the far recesses of her mind.  There were days when every ounce of hurt begged for release, threatening to explode in the most brilliant of storms.  It was a feeling new to her within the previous months, one that seemed to have developed rather quickly.  She believed she was going crazy, finally unable to handle everything she had bottled.  Maybe she should have been more vocal, screamed louder or cried more.  Maybe she should have thrown things or found someone to whom she could talk.  Maybe there was still time, time to collapse, regroup and rebuild her control.  Time didn’t matter to her, though.  It was simply easier to bury her feelings, to keep everyone shut out of her turmoil.  That was, after all, what she did best.  Maintain control by keeping everyone away.

Yes, her control was slipping.  And nothing made that more clear to her than Lucifer.  She didn’t talk to anyone about her concerns about Malcom.  Yet they were no secret to Lucifer.  He knew everything she suspected.  She didn’t talk to anyone about her situation with Dan.  Though she didn’t always give Lucifer an answer, she allowed him to ask his questions about the separation and her want of a divorce.  With everyone else, she checked out of the conversation long before the inquirer could finish asking.  Chloe had often been impatient with past colleagues, working to her own conclusions on cases without the others’ assistance or input.  Yet she allowed Lucifer a leeway she had never granted to former partners.  She listened to his thoughts, considered his point of view; used everything he offered.

Then enter the Lloyd case.  Chloe had followed Lucifer’s plan to gain entry to Mrs. Lloyd’s office without voicing concerns of any kind.  She allowed him to lead her by the hand through the building, allowed him to invade her personal space, allowed him to be more intimate with her than she had allowed anyone, Dan included, in, well, a very long time.  She had allowed him to bait her into the conversation they had shared at Lux, an adamant display of ‘never a you and I’.  She had allowed him to curl himself around her, to push the boundaries of their professional relationship, of their developing friendship.  She had given him control, _willingly_ given him control.  Why?  What made Lucifer different?

A knock at the door pulled Chloe from her thoughts.  She stared at the wooden door for a long moment.  She knew who was on the other side, and she knew if she didn’t answer, he would not go away.  Draping the shirt she was still holding over the edge of the basket, she took a deep breath and moved towards the door.  Her fingers curled around the knob, hesitating for a brief moment before turning and pulling.

“Detective,” Lucifer smiled widely.

“What do you want, Lucifer?”

“We have no case.  I’m bored,” he pouted.

“And you’re here because…”

“I thought I would see what shenanigans you had planned for the day.”  His gaze flicked over her shoulder then swiftly back to her eyes.  “Maybe we could cause…”  He looked over her shoulder again and his eyes narrowed.  “Trouble…”  He brushed past her, entering the house without the invite.  “Together.”  He moved quickly to the table and pulled a few articles of clothing from the basket.  “Laundry?” he asked incredulously.  “You’re folding laundry?  How boring!”  He dug into the basket and sifted through the clothing.

“Well, I have a lot of time on my hands now, don’t I?” she said as she closed the door.  “So no time like the present to catch up on laundry and housework, right?”

“I think the correct question is when did you wear these?”  He turned to her, a pair of lacy, black panties hanging from his index fingers.  “And, more importantly, why didn’t you show me?”

“Lucifer.”  She pulled the garment from his hands and shoved it into the laundry basket.  “Why are you here?” she asked, positioning herself between him and the table.

“I wanted to say I am sorry.”  Chloe studied him, holding his gaze for a long moment.  Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she shifted her weight to her right hip.

“For what?”

“For causing your removal from the case.”  She nodded slowly.

“And?”

“And for causing your suspension.”

“And?”  Lucifer opened his mouth to answer but quickly closed it.

“Really?” he deadpanned.  Chloe laughed lightly.

“It was worth a shot.”  She dropped her eyes and shrugged gently.  “Dan says he can’t use the journal, but he’s going to backtrack our investigation and see if there are any other solid leads to follow.”

“The Douche is taking over?”  She nodded.

“So at least we didn’t completely blow the case.  I’m sure Dan will handle things just fine and then Henry Lloyd will be arrested.”

“And punished?” Lucifer asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” she smiled gently.  He looked away for a moment.

“I’m sorry for giving Detective Douche an opportunity to take the case.”

“I knew there was one more apology in there,” she joked half-heartedly.

“Yes,” he said slowly around a small smile.  “Anyway, I feel badly and I truly want to make it up to you.”  He straightened his posture and clasped his hands behind his back.  “Dinner tonight, at mine.  Take-out from that quaint little Chinese restaurant I know you like,” he said, wiggling his finger towards her.  “I will get you aptly drunk so you may release enough inhibition to direct all of your frustrations towards me, no holding back.”  He moved a step towards her and slipped his arms past her sides.  His hands curled around the top rung of the chair behind her.  “And then I will show you every way I have dreamed up to prove just how sorry I am.”  She lifted a hand, pressing it to his chest to keep him from leaning in to kiss her.

“Fine,” she agreed after a moment.

“Oh?”  Her finger appeared in front of his face, halting his smile mid-crack.

“Take-out, from the quaint little Chinese restaurant I like,” she said with a slightly mocking voice.  “But not at your penthouse.  Here.”  He tipped his head in question.  “So when I’m finished taking out my frustrations on you, and trust me, I don’t need the alcohol to help me out there, I can experience the satisfying feeling of kicking you out of my house,” she explained.

“You do seem to like that,” he frowned.  “You are making quite an assumption though, my dear detective.”

“I’m not assuming anything,” she said.  “It’s going to happen.”

“Yes, well, you’ll have to get me to the door first,” he said, his eyes dark and flirty.  “And as tough and ballsy as you are, we both know I’m much stronger than you.”  He smiled.  “I believe the expression is ‘game on’.”  Chloe released an irritated breath.

“Game on,” she agreed with a tight nod.  “And no sex.”

“A little sex?”

“No sex, Lucifer.”

“All right.  We’ll just make out.”

“No.”

“One kiss,” he countered.  “On the lips.”

“No, Lucifer.”

“Will you at least wear these?”  His hand appeared between them, the lace panties again in his possession.  She quickly snatched them from his hold.

“Get out!”

**Lucifer**

“I know this isn’t what you wanted,” Olivia said as she flipped through the pages of Chloe’s notes.  “But if I give this case to anyone else…”

“Chloe won’t back off,” Dan finished.  He closed the laptop resting over his thighs and leaned back in his chair with a sigh.  “Lieutenant, I have to say it.  I think Chloe and Lucifer were on the right track here.”

“I think so, too.  With everything that happened last night, we can’t make this one stick.  Lloyd is a good lawyer.  He _has_ a good lawyer.”

“Yeah.”  He rubbed his hand over his eyes.  “I’ll wrap this one up.  Close it with Maggie as the one responsible for the murders.”  He stood and nodded as he left the office.

“Detective Espinoza.”  Dan stopped and turned to his right as Henry Lloyd approached him from the elevator.

“Henry,” Dan greeted.

“We need to talk,” the lawyer said.

“Yeah.  Conference room.”  The two moved into the room and Dan quietly closed the door.  “Listen, Henry, I have—”

“Don’t ‘listen’ me,” he bit.  “What the hell is going on here?  I thought this case was being dropped.”

“It is.  Monroe has to hand it over to someone in order to close it.  That someone is me.  I’m closing it, no questions asked.”  Henry’s eyes remained skeptical but he nodded.

“And your wife?  Will she leave this one alone?”

“She doesn’t have a choice,” Dan replied.

“That’s what you said about Palmetto and she’s still looking into that one.”

“She can poke around all she wants to on that one, but she can’t do anything about it.  There’s nothing to implicate anyone.”

“I hope for all of our sakes’ that Malcolm doesn’t wake up.  I don’t trust that asshole any farther than I could throw him.  He’ll talk if the deal is good enough.”

“Don’t worry,” Dan said.  “There won’t be a deal if he wakes up.”

“Keep your wife under control, Detective.”  Henry moved towards the door, his fingers closing around the doorknob.  “If you can’t, I will.”

**Lucifer**

Chloe offered no greeting when Lucifer arrived, simply opening the door then walking farther into the house.  He entered cautiously, closing the door as he watched her move through the kitchen.  She grabbed a half-full bottle of wine from the island countertop and filled the glass nearby.  He chuckled lightly as he watched her lift the glass to her mouth.

“Started without me, Love?”

“Yep,” she answered, letting the ‘p’ pop from her lips as he so often did.

“Oh, and quite sharp with the tongue, too.”  His eyes dropped along the length of her body as he nodded his approval.  “No mind.  I rather enjoy your feisty side.”  He placed a paper bag of food and an unopened bottle of wine on the island as she stared at him.  A sweet smile pulled at her lips and she crooked her finger, beckoning him closer.  Obliging, he moved around the centered counter until he stood a foot from her.  She wiggled her finger once more as she leaned the back of her hips into the L of the countertop along the wall.  He stepped closer, bending slightly at the waist as she lifted her chin.

“I’m gonna smack that smirk right off your face,” she threatened quietly.  He released a low laugh.

“Tease,” he accused.

“And then I’m kicking you out.”

“Let’s get right to it then,” he suggested.  He took the glass of wine from her hand and reached around her to place it on the countertop.  “I hope you brought you A-game, Detective.”  He braced his hands along the edge of the counter to either side of her hips.  “Go on,” he prompted as he leaned over her.  “Give it your best shot, Detective.”  She narrowed her eyes as her title rolled slowly, almost tauntingly over his tongue.  Quickly, she raised her hand but before she could connect her palm to Lucifer’s cheek, his fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist.  Chloe huffed a small laugh and raised her other hand, finding it closed within his fingers as quickly as the first.

“You’re supposed to let me win,” she bit, trying to free herself from his grasp.

“Since when is that part of the rules?” he laughed lightly.

“Since when do you care about the rules?” she countered, her struggling growing.

“Come on,” he teased.  “Surely you have more than that.”

“Let me go, Lucifer.”

“Seriously, Darling.  I’m not even trying.”  He allowed a bit more of a tug-and-war before he lowered their arms and placed their hands behind her back.  The fingers of his left closed around both of her wrists and he leaned his right palm on top of the counter again.  “Now what?” he laughed as she continued to fight against him.  “Hmm?  One hand, Detective, and still you cannot break free.”

“Lucifer, come on.  This isn’t funny.”

“Good.  I wasn’t going for funny.”  Chloe calmed her resistance.  “Are you quite finished?”  She nodded.  “Great.  Let’s eat.  I’m famished.”

**Lucifer**

“Son of a bitch,” Dan whispered.  He roughly shifted the car into park and turned off the engine.  “Monkey?” he called, turning towards the back seat.  “Change of plans, kiddo.  Would you like to stay at Grandma and Grandpa E’s for a few days?”

“Really?” Trixie asked excitedly.  “Yes!”

“Great.”  Dan turned to face forward and dug his phone out of his pocket.  “Give me just a minute and then we’ll go inside and pack some clothes.”

**Lucifer**

Chloe shifted on the sofa, bending a leg across the top of the cushion as she faced Lucifer.  He leaned forward and grabbed the bottle of wine from the table littered with take-out containers.  She watched as he filled their glasses, wondering if this was her fifth or sixth.

“Why aren’t you…more drunk?” she asked with a slight slur.

“You mean as inebriated as you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you _did_ start before I arrived.”

“You know what I mean,” she said, lightly smacking Lucifer’s arm.

“I have quite the buzz, I assure you,” he smiled, sitting back into the sofa.  “But alcohol doesn’t affect me as strongly as it does you humans.”

“Us humans,” she laughed with a shake of her head.

“Yes.  This particular state of intoxication is rather intriguing on some of you.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes,” he breathed, shifting closer.  “There’s a short window,” he explained as he draped his arm across the back of the sofa behind Chloe, “when one’s desires bare themselves; when they come out from behind a shroud of embarrassment and do-goodery.”

“Do…goodery.”  She nodded slowly.  “Is that…is that even a word?”

“Did you understand my point?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s a word.”  He took the glass from her hand and set both hers and his on the table.  “Anyway…”  He returned to his position, his arm curling around her shoulders without touching her.  “Desires,” he said quietly.  “True.  Raw,” he whispered.  “Too much alcohol and the cravings become muddied, unintelligible.  Too little and they don’t come out to play.  But just the right amount…”  He dropped his eyes, slowly raking her body.  She held her breath as he leaned across her, planting a palm against the cushions to the left of her hip.  His gaze met hers again, an impossibly dark hunger radiating from his eyes.  “What you desire sits before you, Detective.  All you have to do is take it.”

“What makes you so sure that’s what I desire?” she asked carefully.

“I’m sorry, were you not at the museum yesterday?” he joked lightly.  “Or at Lux?”  She turned away to hide the blush creeping across her face.  “You’re so afraid to admit what you want, Detective.”  He hooked a finger under her chin and turned her back to him.  “So afraid to _explore_ what you want.”  He moved in slowly and brushed his lips across her cheek.  “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered.  “Give in to the curiosity…to the longing.”

“Lucifer,” she breathed.  Her inflection held a bit of a question, a bit of a warning, but he would not answer, he would not heed.  As they sat together, their bodies close, their mouths closer, he had to fight the urge to dive in and fuse their lips.  He itched to discover her hidden desires, yet for the moment, he delighted in the warring behavior she displayed.  Deny or admit, reject or accept.  Her indecision only fueled his need to drag out the teasing, to drive her mad with want.  To ascertain just how far he could push before she begged for release.

“Take what you desire,” he whispered.  Chloe creased her brow, focused her gaze on his mouth and hesitantly moved towards him.  Lucifer waited, patiently, still, until he felt her lips brush against his.  He pulled back slowly.  “Take it,” he ordered quietly.  She leaned towards him again; again, he moved away.  He watched her sit back, knowing the confusion on her face had nothing to do with his actions.  Lucifer straightened and took her hand.  “Take,” he started, watching as their palms touched, as he interlocked their fingers.  “Not back away; not second-guess yourself.”  His dark eyes flicked up to hers.  “Let me show you.”

“I…uh…you shouldn’t…”  Chloe scooted back as slowly as Lucifer approached her.  His free hand dropped from the back of the sofa and his fingers wound around her ankle, pulling her leg from its bent position to settle it between his side and the back cushions.

“Shouldn’t what?”  He carefully shifted a little closer, moving between her knees.  His arm slipped past her hip, his hand flattening across the cushion behind her.  He lifted their joined hands, curling her fingers over the round of his shoulder.  “Shouldn’t give you exactly what you want?”  He released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist.  She slowly shook her head in answer and leaned away from him.  Lucifer followed until Chloe was reclining against the arm of the sofa.  He trailed a path of soft kisses from her collarbone to her ear.  “Tell me, Detective,” he whispered.  “Tell me what you want.”

“Lucifer,” she sighed.

“Lucifer!”  The two quickly separated as Trixie ran across the room and jumped into Lucifer’s lap.

“Oh,” he sighed awkwardly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Your child has an awful sense of timing.”  He lifted his eyes to the man slowly walking towards the sofa.  “She must get that from her father.”

“Seriously, Chloe,” Dan scolded.  “Maybe you want to hang a tie on the doorknob next time.”

“Dan.”

“No.  Don’t.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “Trixie, go grab your stuff.”

“Okay.”  She slid off Lucifer’s lap and grabbed his hand as she hopped off the couch.  “Come on, Lucifer.  Come help me pack.”

“Um, I, uh…”  She yanked on his arm, pulling him to his feet.

“Yeah.  Go help her pack, Lucifer,” Dan chided.  “Chloe and I need to talk for a moment anyway.”  Lucifer looked between the two before settling his gaze on Chloe.  He tipped his head to the side, eyes serious.

“Yeah, I owe you.”  She stood and waited for the pair to disappear into the bedroom.  “So, what is Trixie packing?”

“Her clothes,” Dan answered.  “She’s staying with my parents for a couple of nights.”

“Okay, not that I mind her staying with them,” she started, “but why?”

“Because these few days I was supposed to have off to spend with her, I’m working your fucking case.”

“Don’t swear, Dan.  Trixie can hear you.”

“Something came up,” he continued, calming his tone.  “Something big.  I need to go to the precinct.”

“What came up?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, Chloe.”  He sighed.  “You’re not part of that case anymore.”  She frowned and changed the subject.

“There’s no need to inconvenience your parents,” she said.  “She _can_ stay with me.  You can take her next weekend.”

“It’s not an inconvenience.  They don’t mind spending the time with her.  And there’s no way I was letting her stay here with _him_ here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Seriously, Chloe.  Can you give your daughter a chance to get used to the fact that we’re not living together before you start bringing other men home?”

“Are you kidding?” she hissed.  “First of all, I’m not bringing anyone home, Dan.  Lucifer and I are just having dinner.”

“That’s _not_ what you were doing.”

“Second,” she interrupted loudly, “how can you even say something like that when you were sleeping with another woman while we were still living together?”

“Keep your voice down, Chloe.”

“I’m ready, Daddy,” Trixie announced as she and Lucifer entered the room.

“Okay, Monkey.”  He moved to Lucifer’s side and ushered the girl towards her mother.  “Give Mom a hug and a kiss.”  He turned his back to them and leaned closer to Lucifer.  “You and I need to talk,” he said quietly.  His eyes shifted upwards to meet Lucifer’s.  “It’s important.  Tomorrow, at Lux.”  Lucifer agreed with a stiff nod.  “Thank you.”  He turned back to Chloe and Trixie as the little one made her way to the door, backpack dragging behind her on the floor.

“Dan, you really don’t have to take her to your parents’ house.”

“It’s already done, Chloe.  I’ll see you later.”  Lucifer moved around the sofa to stand behind Chloe as Dan closed the door behind him.  She wrapped her arms around herself and took a shuddered breath.

“Detective?” he called gently.

“Tell me Trixie didn’t hear that,” she said quietly.

“She didn’t,” he assured her.  “She was literally in the closet, humming as she stuffed her little bag with clothes.”  Chloe nodded and blinked away the tears lingering on her lashes.  Lucifer placed his hands on her shoulders, hoping to offer some comfort.  “Detective, I’m sorry.”  She nodded.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said quietly.  “It’s not your fault.”

“Nor is it yours,” he offered.  She shrugged off his hands and turned towards him.

“I’m sorry, Lucifer.  I just…”  Shaking her head, she turned away.  “Just go.”

**Lucifer**

Dan stood just inside the doorway of Lux, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness before him.  The only light on was the spotlight positioned over the piano in the middle of the floor.  The spotlight did not hold its usual bright white glow, rather dimmed to a faint dusting of yellow.  Dan stepped forward and peered over the railing, seeing Lucifer seated at the piano.  His eyes were closed, his fingers moving slowly and gracefully over the black and white keys.  The melody was haunting, familiar, though Dan couldn’t place the name.  He wandered down the steps and towards the middle of the room, stopping his approach when Lucifer opened his eyes and pinned the detective with an angry glare.

“Detective Douche,” he greeted lowly.  “Time for our talk?”

“Yeah,” Dan answered.

“Where has the night gone?”

“Lucifer, I need your help,” Dan said as he took a few steps closer to the piano.

“ _My_ help?  Well, well, well.”  Lucifer dropped his hands from the keys to rest in his lap.  He looked expectantly at Dan.

“There are…there are a lot of…bad things going on right now.  At the station.  It runs deep, man.  F-from officers and detectives right up through lawyers and judges.”  Lucifer nodded.  “And I need…”  He sighed and ran a hand over his face.  “You guys are right about Lloyd.  He did kill his wife.”

“Then why were we taken off the case?”

“Monroe is trying to protect Chloe.”

“By suspending her?”

“Yeah.  Suspending her ensures she stays away from what’s going on.”  Lucifer stood and motioned Dan to follow.  He moved behind the bar and grabbed two empty glass tumblers and a full bottle of scotch.  Dan sat on one of the bar stools and accepted the drink offered.  “It all goes back to Palmetto,” he explained.  “Chloe was right.  About everything.  But she’s just…she’s too stubborn for her own good and she won’t let it go.  I’ve been following Malcolm far longer than Chloe has suspected him.  I’ve been working with Monroe and the feds to bring down this ring of rogue civil servants.”  Lucifer took a drink and nodded slowly.

“Am I to assume Henry Lloyd is involved in Palmetto, also?”

“Yes, he is.”  Dan dropped his eyes to the glass in his hand.  “Chloe has good instincts.  She knows she’s right.  And she isn’t going to stop snooping around until she proves that.  Henry threatened her life yesterday.  He told me that if she keeps pursuing the case against him, keeps looking into his wife’s death…”  He looked up and met Lucifer’s eyes.  “I need you to steer her away from all of this.”

“And why would I do such a thing?  If she’s right, then these people need to be punished.”

“And they will be.  But I can’t protect her anymore.  She keeps pushing and she’s making people nervous.  She’ll listen to you, Lucifer.”

“Interesting.  So you want me to lie to the detective?  Exploit her trust in me?”

“You don’t have to lie, just…deter her.  Don’t let her get on that line of thinking.  Please, Lucifer,” he pleaded.  “Help me keep my family safe.”

“Very well,” he replied after a moment.  “However, I get a favor in return.”

“Yeah, your favors; I’ve heard about these.”  Dan shook his head and offered an incredulous smile.  “What do you want?”  Lucifer emptied the contents of his glass in one swallow and placed the tumbler on the bar top.

“I want you to sign the divorce papers.”

“So you can move in on my wife, right?” Dan laughed.  “I don’t think so.”

“This has nothing to do with me,” Lucifer explained.  “You don’t get it, do you?  You don’t see just how much you’re hurting the woman you supposedly love.  She is tearing herself apart over your little indiscretions.  Wondering what she did, why she wasn’t good enough for you.”

“That’s not how it…”  Dan sighed.  “That’s not why it happened.”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?”  Lucifer refilled his glass and topped off Dan’s.  “I left the detective’s house shortly after you did last night.  Well, not by choice; she kicked me out.”  He tipped his head and chuckled gently.  “Funny how she always does that.  Anyway, I stayed outside the door for a while.  I didn’t feel right just leaving, yet I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”  He looked at his tumbler, swishing the liquid around the glass.  “She cried.  For a long time.  Broke two bottles of wine, too.  From the sound of the glass smashing against the wall, I’d surmise she has quite the throwing arm.”  Lucifer took a drink and moved around the bar to stand next to Dan.  “She blames herself for your mess, Daniel.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” he said quietly.  “It had nothing to do with Chloe.”

“She thinks differently.”

“It was _my_ mistake.  I didn’t…I didn’t mean for it to happen.”  Lucifer nodded as he recalled the detective’s initial conversation with Mr. Lloyd.

“No one ever does,” he said, echoing her words.  He stepped closer to Dan.  “Stop putting her through this; let her move on.”

“All right,” Dan nodded.  “If that’s what I have to do to keep Chloe and Trixie safe, then I’ll sign the papers.  And you’ll keep her from pushing these investigations?”

“I will do my very best to dissuade her actions.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘K. I was ready about a month or so ago to dive right back into the fic. And then I decided I wasn’t happy with the first part of this chapter and several re-writes occurred, none of which made me want to happy dance. However, I think I may have finally come across a version with which I can live. Thank you to Skoai and ArcticaEchoes for your wonderful assistance! So, the gas tank is full, the snacks are packed and I am ready to start this road trip again!  
> Oh, yeah. I may have dropped a few f-bombs in this chapter. Sorry/not sorry.

“Chloe,” Dan started around a sigh.  “You can’t do this.”  He switched his phone from his right hand to his left as he moved across the squad room and into an empty office.  “You know better,” he said as he closed the door.

_“Yeah, I know.  But, Dan—”_

“No, Chloe.  No buts.  You were taken off the case and if the lieutenant finds out you’re still working your angles, you’re going to end up with a bigger suspension than you already have.”

_“There’s no need for the lieutenant to find out, Dan.”_

“Chloe.”  Dan closed his eyes as his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose.

_“Why haven’t you arrested Henry Lloyd?  Why are you letting him walk?”_

“There’s a reason I haven’t answered any of the million texts you’ve sent me today, Chloe.”

_“Look, you said you couldn’t use the journal, and I get it.  I do,”_ she said quickly.  _“No warrant, no journal.”_

“That’s kind of on you.”

_“But you’ve read my notes and my reports, right?”_ she asked, ignoring his comment.

“Stop,” he said loudly.  “Chloe, stop,” he whispered.  “There is nothing to prove that Lloyd killed his wife.  Nothing.  Any way you twist your theories…it just looks like a vendetta, Chloe.”

_“A vendetta,”_ she repeated slowly.

“I didn’t mean—”

_“No, I think you did.”_ She scoffed a small, bitter laugh.  _“Is that how this is going to work now?  Because **my** husband had an affair, I am no longer capable of doing my job if my suspect screwed around on his wife, too?  Come on, Dan.”_

“You know I don’t think that way, Chloe.  But to others…”  He shrugged.  “Perception is reality.”

_“That’s really funny coming from a detective,”_ she stated.  _“Our job is to look beyond the perception and discover the truth.”_

“Take the week, Chloe.  Stop obsessing over the case.  Please.  Before you get yourself into trouble.”

_“I thought I could count of you for this.”_ Dan dropped his eyes to the floor, gently kicking the toe of his shoe across the carpet as the faint sound of a doorbell floated through the phone.  _“I have to go; someone’s here.”_ He listened as silence took over for a moment before his phone chimed, signaling the end of the call.  He dropped the phone from his ear and stared at the screen as “call ended” flashed brightly across the glass.

“Having a little trouble with the wife?”  Startled by the sudden voice, Dan quickly turned to face the doorway.  Henry leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and smiled widely as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Not at all,” Dan answered.

“She’s the one that’s been texting you all day, isn’t she?” he asked knowingly.  “Leave your phone screen-up on the table,” he started, “and everyone can see her name float across the screen.  It’s odd to me that you would receive so many texts from her, seeing as the state of your marriage isn’t all that healthy.”

“We do have a child,” the detective slowly replied.  “Parenting requires communication.”  Henry raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes, his head nodding from side to side with a quick, absent concession.

“I suppose.”  He pushed off the frame and moved towards Dan.  “You do remember what I told you, right?  That if you can’t control Chloe Decker and keep her away from all of this, I will do it for you.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Dan nodded.  “She’s finished with the case.”

“Good.”  Henry clapped his hands and smiled.  “Now, since you’ve so kindly closed the case on my wife’s death and the papers are all signed and awaiting official filing, I’ll be on my merry way.”  Dan watched through the windowed wall of the office as Henry made his way through the squad room towards the elevator.  Once the elevator doors closed behind the lawyer, Dan’s fingers quickly fluttered over the screen of his phone then he held it to his ear.

“Yeah, I need to speak to Lucifer,” he started.  “I don’t care what he’s doing,” he bit.  “Get him on the phone.  Now.”

**Lucifer**

Chloe closed her eyes and cursed inwardly as the loud crack of thunder permeated the walls of the elevator.  She had been lucky enough to duck inside Lux before the clouds released a torrent of rain and she hoped that luck would see her safely to Lucifer’s penthouse.  She shoved down the anxiety brought out by the thought of being stuck in a powerless elevator and turned her focus on her partner.

Lucifer had called late in the afternoon, while she had been in the shower, and had left a short, extremely vague message requesting her presence.  _I could use your assistance, Detective,_ he had stated.  _Meet me at my penthouse say…seven o’clock._   Assistance, she thought.  He had given a specific time so she knew he wasn’t in any serious trouble.  Nevertheless, she had listened to the message twice, paying close attention to the tone of his voice.  There had been no hint of distress, only words that seemed to form around a practically audible smile.  Still, the brevity of the message bothered her.

“Not in trouble,” Chloe mumbled.  “But definitely up to something.”  The doors of the elevator opened with a ping and a soft swoosh, and she slowly made her way into the dimly lit penthouse.  The balcony door was open, allowing the cool air of the storm and the scent of rain to wash into the space.  The orange light of the liquor wall bathed the room in a soft glow, seemingly warming the chill.  She turned in a circle as she neared the end of the piano, searching the expanse of the apartment.  “Lucifer?” she called gently.

“Ah, Detective.”  Chloe turned towards the sound of Lucifer’s voice, towards his bedroom, greeted by his wide smile and very bare chest.  He wore a black pair of dress pants and a belt that hung unfastened from his hips.  The buckle jangled gently, bouncing against his thigh as he moved down the short stack of stairs.  Three garments on hangers hung from his fingers.  “You’re just in time,” he said as he placed two shirts and a vest across the top of the piano.

“In time for what?”

“I need your help,” he replied.  He hooked his fingers under the catch of two hangers and moved a few steps to the side.  He held up his hands, a shirt hanging from each.  “Purple or white?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.  I’m having trouble deciding.”  She looked over both options and shrugged.

“Purple,” she replied around a sigh.

“Splendid choice.”  He draped the white shirt over the piano and pulled the purple shirt from the hanger.

“So,” she started slowly, bouncing on her heels, “is this why you wanted to see me?”

“No,” he laughed gently.  “Of course not.”  He slipped his arms into the sleeves of the chosen shirt and then focused his attention on adjusting the collar.  Chloe tipped her head to the side, waiting for Lucifer to elaborate.  He said nothing, however, simply moving on to fastening the buttons.  He pulled the black vest from the piano and held it in front of his chest.  “Vest?” he asked.  “Or no vest?” he finished, moving it to the side.

“Um…vest.”

“Yes,” he smiled.  “I like the way you taste,” he breathed through a quiet laugh as he placed the vest on the piano.

“What did you just say?”

“I like your taste,” he replied a little louder.

“That still sounds dirty,” she accused with narrowed eyes.

“Marvelous, isn’t it?”  Her shoulders dropped.

“Lucifer, why did you call me here?  I doubt it was to play dress-up.”  As he smiled and started to unzip his pants, she closed her eyes and turned away.

“I much prefer to play undress,” he explained as he proceeded to tuck in the shirt.  “Yet, you are right.  I did not call you over to play dress-up.  I’m taking you out.”

“Out?”

“Yes.  You and me, out on the town,” he replied excitedly.

“This was…you said you needed my help.”

“A minor ruse as not to spoil the surprise.”  A soft run of his zipper filled the air and she turned back to him.

“Why are you taking me out?”

“Well, you’re free for the week, practically on vacation, in my opinion,” he muttered gently, “and since that _is_ my fault and last night was certainly _not_ up to my standards of an apology—”

“Lucifer,” she interrupted, “about last night…”  He tipped his head, waiting for her words as he adjusted his belt.  “What you tried to do last night, getting me all liquored up…”

“Tried?”  He laughed lightly, almost wickedly.  “I think I succeeded with _that_ part.”

“Look, I needed to calm down.  A…a bit.  And I…appreciate that you wanted to…help me do that.”  She sighed heavily.  “Lucifer, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for being angry with you.  I know it’s not your fault we were taken off the case.  You don’t know all of the rules and that’s _my_ fault.  You were just trying to help.  I know your heart was in the right place.”  Lucifer nodded gently.

“I apologized yesterday, you apologize today,” he started as he moved around the curve of the instrument to join her.  “Perhaps we simply need to stop circling each other and set out on the same foot again.”

“Yeah, maybe we do.”

“I really _am_ sorry about the case.”

“I know.”  Chloe bit at her bottom lip for a moment before continuing.  “You know, I distinctly remember throwing two bottles of wine at the wall after you left last night.”

“Really?”  He placed a hand on his chest, his features presenting shock.  “You are _full_ of surprises, Detective.”

“I also remember trying to clean up.  At which point I cut my hand on the glass and gave up on the mess.  But, when I woke up this morning, the glass and the wine were cleaned up and this…”  She lifted her right hand, gently shaking it from the confines of the long sleeve of her brown jacket.  “I found this wrapped around my hand.”

“I see.”  He lifted his hand to meet hers, allowing her fingers to hook over his as he studied the white band of gauze that circled her hand.  “Quite the mystery indeed.”

“Lucifer,” she laughed with a shake of her head.  “Thank you.”

“Hmm.  Couldn’t very well let you bleed out, could I?” he asked, bringing her hand to his mouth to place a chaste kiss across the backs of her fingers.

“I don’t think I would have bled out.”

“Shouldn’t take that kind of risk though.”

“I suppose not.”  Lucifer lowered her hand to her side, studying her face as she dropped her eyes to the floor.

“We have a good hour before our reservation at the restaurant, so why don’t we have a drink and you can tell me all about your day.”  He released her hand and started towards the bar.  “Please do not tell me you spent the day doing mundane chores,” he said over his shoulder.

“It’s going to be a short conversation then.”  As he reached the bar, he grabbed two tumblers and looked over his stock of alcohol.

“What part of your boring day had you crying?  And do not tell me you haven’t been,” he added quickly.  “I know that look.”

“What look?”

“Well, the puffy eyes and…”  He turned towards her, stopping his comment as he took in her crossed arms and the unamused expression on her face.  “I…sorry.”  He cleared his throat.  “I simply meant that I notice things about you and I notice that you’ve been crying.”  He faced the bar again and selected a bottle.  “So what has you so upset?”

“Dan signed the divorce papers,” she answered quietly.

“Did he?” he asked, forcing his voice to hold an air of surprise.

“They were delivered this afternoon.”  After filling both tumblers, Lucifer returned the glass stopper to the bottle.

“I thought you’d be…happier.”

“I don’t know what I am,” Chloe admitted.  “I am definitely glad that he finally signed them.  But…not ‘happy’, I guess.”

“It’s difficult to admit that it’s over,” he said as he crossed the room.  “As you explained the other night.”

“Yeah.”  He placed a glass in her uninjured hand as he reached her side and then gently took her other wrist.

“Come,” Lucifer said, carefully tugging her arm.  “Sit.”  He led Chloe to the sofa and sat beside her once she settled into the cushions.

“I owe you an apology for that, too,” she said.  “I wasn’t expecting Dan to show up last night.”

“Not the reason you intended to kick me out, was it?”  She shook her head.

“Honestly, I wasn’t really going to kick you out.”

“Oh?” he started, smiling widely.

“I wasn’t going to let you do _that_ ,” she quickly explained.  “I was just upset with the case and the suspension and I…kicking you out seemed a practical threat at the time.”

“Yes, well, I did say I like your feisty side.  And I do,” he assured her.  He sat back into the sofa and crossed his legs.  “You owe me nothing of the sort, Detective.  You are not responsible for the choices Detective Douche has made or the mistakes he is certain to make going forward.  _He_ must suffer those consequences.”

“Consequences are never one-sided,” she stated.  “Everything about my life, everything about Trixie’s life, has been uprooted because of what Dan did.  I moved out, I filed for divorce.  I’m the one that has to explain to Trixie why her parents are not living together anymore, why her father keeps missing planned family time.”  She dropped her eyes.  “If he has to suffer the consequences, why do I feel like _I’m_ the one being punished?”

“Well, if you ask me, it’s not a punishment.  You’re free to seek out anyone you desire.  Whatever you wish is yours, no weight upon your conscience, no harm to your ‘do the right thing’ line of thinking.  So, to celebrate, I’m here for the taking.”  He smiled and gestured along the length of his body with his free hand.  “Have at it.”  Chloe lifted the glass to her mouth, taking her first sip of the alcohol inside.

“I’m not going to be your one-and-done, Lucifer.”

“One-and-done?” he laughed.  “Have I not explained my incredible stamina?”

“Yes, you have, and that’s not what I meant.”

“You mean what would have transpired at your house last night had the douche not interrupted.”

“No one said it was going to happen, Lucifer.”

“I beg to differ, Detective.  Had your ex not shown up, I am certain you would have given in to your desires.”  Chloe offered an incredulous scoff.

“Here you go with this, again.”  She shook her head.  “You said the same thing to me last night.  I’m certain I wouldn’t have.”

“It’s interesting to me that some of you humans are do dead set on denying yourselves what you truly want because the unknown is exactly that, unknown.”  He lifted a finger from his glass, pointing at her as he took a drink.  “You do that, you know.  You’re so afraid of what adverse things may happen that you cannot let yourself enjoy the moment.  And the rest of you,” he scoffed.  “The rest of you just cannot control yourselves, doing whatever you want, taking whatever you want, consequences be damned.”

“ _You_ do that,” she said with a frown.

“No.”  He quickly downed the remaining liquid in his glass.  “I am the devil, darling,” he started as lightning flashed beyond the window behind him, “the very embodiment of temptation, and yes, I encourage others to seek out their desires, but even _I_ know there are consequences to one’s actions.  And I _never_ encourage hurting others for one’s own pleasure.”

“So you _never_ do anything that may have consequences?  Say, for example, the favor you granted Benny Choi.”  She shifted to face him squarely.  “That favor had negative consequences for the people around him.”

“He didn’t give me the entire story.  _That_ is not my fault.”  He adjusted his position, bringing his leg onto the cushion to mirror her pose.  “Besides, the favor Benny owed me in return helped you solve the case and catch the killer.”

“Yeah, a case that wouldn’t have existed, a murder that would never have happened had you not granted the favor in the first place.”

“That isn’t fair, Detective.”  She dropped her eyes to her glass and let her fingers play around the rim.

“How about when you kissed me?” she asked quietly.

“I had no idea the lieutenant would react so unpleasantly to—”

“I’m not talking about the lieutenant, Lucifer.  I’m talking about me.”  She gently shook her head and met his eyes, waiting through a long and loud rumble of thunder to speak.  “You’re intense, Lucifer, and you don’t hold anything back.  I can handle the flirting and the innuendoes.  It’s all part of your…”  She gestured towards him.  “Luciferness.  But when you kissed me, for the case…you took it farther than that.  And then the other night before Lux opened a-and last night at my house…”  She shook her head again.  “What was that?  What do you want?”

“Have I not made myself ridiculously clear, Detective?” he laughed gently.  “I want you.”

“Is this a game to you?” she interjected.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Out of nowhere, you announce your big plan to sleep with me.  Then you’re spending all kinds of time with me, working with me, and in a position that’s not even a real thing,” she explained.  “Is this a game?” she repeated.

“Well, it’s true that subtlety is not really my style and I’ve never had to work this hard to…”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Do you…you can’t possibly think that I would take advantage of you.”

“I don’t know what to think, Lucifer.  You said it yourself.  You took advantage of that kiss.”  She shrugged.  “So why not see what more you can take?”

“Yes, the inherently evil devil,” he scoffed.  “Despite what you may believe, I am not that much of an asshole.”  He frowned and sat back.  “You really think you’re merely opportunity, don’t you?”

“You _do_ have a bit of a reputation, Lucifer,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“As I have said before, I simply want to know what affects you.”

“And you’re going to find out by getting me drunk and invading my personal space?”

“Tell me, Detective, and be honest with me, with yourself,” he started, a smirk playing across his lips, “you’re interested, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“You wanted me to kiss you,” he said.

“That is not the point, Lucifer.”

“I think it is.  Would you be questioning my intentions otherwise?”

“Did you ever consider that this,” she started, gesturing between them, “might have…I mean, the job, our weird-ass friendship…”  She sighed as another clap of thunder interrupted her words.  “Yes, I wanted you to kiss me,” she said quietly, conceding to his statement.  “But I can’t play some bullshit game with you.  If this is just a way to get what you want…”

“I am not playing a game,” he said quietly.  “Honestly, I thought you’d be more…receptive.”  Chloe took a deep breath as she stood and moved towards the bar.  “Detective,” he called as he followed her.  “I think you’re misunderstanding what I’m trying to say.”

“Like I said, Lucifer, I won’t be your one-and-done.  I don’t want or need to be hurt again.”  She placed her full glass on the bar.  “I think I’ll pass on the dinner invitation.”  He placed his empty glass next to hers and quickly caught up to her before she could reach the elevator.  His hand closed carefully around her elbow and he turned her around to face him.

“Please, Detective.  Don’t leave.”  He gently placed his hands on her shoulders as he lowered his head and leveled their eyes.  “You’re…different.  I don’t know how or why, but…you are.  I’m curious about that, about you.”  She nodded slowly.

“So I’m something new.”

“Yes,” he said slowly.  “However, judging by the tone of your voice, not in the sense you mean.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“I have never lied to you, Detective.  Why would I start now?”

“I really don’t know if you’ve been truthful or not, do I?  Everything you say, everything you do, all of it could be a lie, an act.  You’re a smooth talker.”  Lucifer’s expression shifted to a frown and his hands dropped from her shoulders.  “You seem to always get what you want, Lucifer.  I have never seen anyone deny you.  And right now,” she started with a small shrug.  “Right now something you want is about to walk out the door and lying is the only way you can think of to keep it from happening.”  A numbing sadness took over his features as he stepped away from her.  “Lucifer,” she sighed.  “I didn’t mean…”  The ring of her phone erupted from the pocket of her jeans before she could say another word.  He moved to the bar as she answered the call, leaning his elbows on the countertop as he watched her.  A confused frown knit her brows as she listened to the caller.  “No, I’m not on…”  Chloe turned her back to him and lowered her voice.  “I’m not working that case anymore,” she said quietly.  “You should know that.  Why not?  Okay,” she sighed.  “Text me the address; I’ll meet you there.”  She shoved the phone into her pocket and turned back to Lucifer.

“Another case?” he asked before downing the drink she had not finished.  He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, able to taste the lie that floated on the tip of her tongue.

“No.  That was Trixie’s babysitter.”  A lie that involved her spawn, no less.  He knew the child was staying with her grandparents, not with the detective.  “Are we…are we done arguing now?”

“Why?” he asked, straightening to his full height.

“Because I have to go and I don’t want to leave it like this.”

“Like what?  Like you having insulted me in nearly every way possible?” he asked with a raised voice.  “Tell me I am disingenuous and cruel; call me a liar.  And then, by all means, throw my words right back in my face.”

“Lucifer, it’s not…”  As her eyes closed, she sighed and ran the tips of her fingers across her forehead.  “I have to go.”  Chloe moved towards the elevator and lifted her hand to jab an angry finger against the call button.  Before she could make contact, Lucifer’s fingers wrapped around her wrist and he quickly spun her around.

“It’s not what?  Hmm?”  His voice was quiet but his eyes held a fierceness rivalled only by the lightning splitting the late evening sky.  “My involvement in your cases is not a game.”  He lifted his arms and pressed his palms against the elevator door to either side of her shoulders.  “My interest in you is _not_ a game.”  He stepped into her, forcing her back against the door.  “Yet if that is how you perceive it, maybe my interest in you is…misplaced.”  A soft ding filled the air and his arms dropped to circle her waist as the door opened, his hold the only thing keeping Chloe’s balance intact.  “Get out,” he whispered sharply.  He released her and started walking towards the bar as she stumbled a step backwards into the elevator.  She quickly righted herself and wiped away the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes.

Lucifer filled the glass nearly to the rim and lifted it to his lips, drinking the contents in two swallows as he listened for the muted, mechanical hum that signaled the elevator’s descent.  He tapped his index finger against the tumbler as he replayed the detective’s words.  An instigator, yes.  A smooth talker, possibly, he was certainly capable.  But a liar?

“I despise liars,” he muttered.  He stared into the empty glass, contemplating pouring another drink.  A frown slowly graced his features as the image of the hollow tumbler gave way to the recollection of the detective’s face, the pain in her eyes as he ordered her out of the penthouse.  “Fuck!” he yelled, turning to pitch the glass across the room.  The sound of the glass shattering should have been satisfying, just as his rude dismissal of the detective should have pacified his hurt over her accusations.  Yet as the pieces rained onto the tiled floor, his eyes closed and his shoulders dropped.  He felt no better over the matter.

Lucifer ran a hand over his face, forehead to chin, as Chloe’s phone conversation crept to the front of his mind.  He clearly knew the discussion had nothing to do with her daughter, yet thinking about possible topics, only one came to mind.  He moved quickly, taking the stairs to his bedroom in two short hops to retrieve the suitcoat he had readied over the end of the mattress.

**Lucifer**

Chloe sighed as she maneuvered the car over a dirt path along the back of the factory’s lot.  As she parked the vehicle, she turned off the headlights and waited as her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her.  The factory’s newest owners had spent a lot of time and money updating the facilities, bringing a round of new jobs to the area.  Despite the major renovations to nearly every building, one building set on the outskirts of the factory’s property line remained untouched and scheduled for demolition.  Its three-story structure stood proud through its old and decrepit state.  The concrete walls bore brown and yellow stains of dirt and age, and angry orange runs of rust from the metal window frames.  The windows themselves, nearly floor-to ceiling blocks of glass, fared no better, each broken to some degree.  Thick, mossy-colored grime blocked the glass that remained in the mounts.

Wiping away a thin sheet of condensation on the inside of the driver’s window, Chloe lifted her eyes towards the top of the building.  The brightness of the fluorescent lights from the parking areas around the rest of the buildings faded by the time it reached the abandoned structure, casting the entire area in an eerie glow.  The smolder of light caused the building to appear ominous against the stormy night sky.  She swallowed thickly and reached to the passenger seat for her firearm.  Turning off the engine, she pocketed her keys and took a deep breath before opening the door.

Chloe made her way across the broken asphalt of the deserted lot.  Her heels clicked every few steps as they found small patches of concrete not yet covered by the uncontrolled growth of grass and weeds.  She lifted a hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the mist of rain beginning to fall as she sprinted towards a short stack of steps.  Pressing her back to the outside wall of the building, her eyes quickly scanned the area.  Once certain she was alone, she ascended the stairs, her back against the railing, and slowly opened the metal door.  Chloe lifted her firearm as she entered and swept her eyes over the darkened areas as she walked towards a dim source of light.  She moved through a break in the wall, a framed passageway separating two sections of the warehouse, and immediately spotted the object of her search.

“Henry Lloyd,” she greeted sharply as she steadied her aim towards the man.  “Why all the secrecy?”

“I had to make sure no one followed you,” he said as he turned towards her.  He cocked his head to the side and raised his hands.  “Is the gun necessary?”

“Yes,” she answered.  “I’m here; start talking.”

“Detective Decker.”  Her eyes shifted to her right looking for the distant source of the familiar voice.

“Manny?” she said through a surprised breath as a figured stepped out of the shadows.

“It’s okay,” he assured her.  “You can put down the gun.”

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“Protecting Henry,” he answered.

“Protecting him from what?”  Chloe returned her gaze to Henry as he again took a step towards her.

“Did you know that my lawyer is working with Espinoza?” Henry inquired.

“What?” she asked incredulously.

“And that cop, the one in the coma…”  He looked to Manny.

“Malcolm Graham,” Manny supplied.

“Yeah, Graham.  He’s in on it, too.”  He dropped his hands and slipped his hands into his pants pockets.  “At least, he was until he ended up in the hospital.”  Henry moved forward.

“Stop right there,” she instructed, adjusting the aim of her firearm.

“Why were you taken off the case, Detective?”

“Your lawyer had me cut,” she answered.

“Because you were asking all the right questions.  Still are,” he laughed gently, “if the inquires you’ve been making all day are anything to go by.  Don’t look so surprised,” he chided.  “Of course I know about that.  Every single person you called contacted me to say you were poking around.  And I _was_ sitting right next to your husband most of the day; figured all the calls and texts from you were all about your little theories.”  Chloe shook her head.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, you should.  What was it he said?  ‘Stop obsessing over the case.  Before you get yourself into trouble.’”  Henry shrugged.  “You really need to learn how to listen.  You’re a good detective; I’ll admit it.  But you’re too good for your own good.  And _that_ changes tonight.”

“What do you mean?”  She drew a shaky breath as Henry continued to approach.

“I mean that I can’t have you mucking up a good thing, Detective Decker.  Espinoza assures me you’re not a threat but I think it’s time for you to be permanently out of the picture.”  Chloe’s breathing grew shallow as Manny came into her peripheral view, training his firearm in her direction.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Lucifer stated as he suddenly seemed to appear at Manny’s left.

“Lucifer?” Chloe breathed with a start.  “How did…did you…did you follow me?”

“Next time, do more than turn your back to keep me from hearing your half of the conversation, Detective.”  Taking advantage of the distraction, Henry fisted his hands as he ran through the few steps between him and Chloe, and brought them down on her arms.  As the gun fell from her grasp, he pulled a knife from the waistband of his pants and jumped at her.  Though she ducked to the side, the blade made contact, slicing through the skin at her temple.  Henry finished the movements of his momentum in a half-turn, ending with his back to Chloe.  She jumped on top of him and swung an arm around his neck.

“Don’t even think about it,” Manny started, pressing his gun into Lucifer’s back as the he attempted to move forward and help the detective.              

“Is it worth it, Manny?” the devil asked as he kept his eyes trained on dueling pair.  “Is it worth the pain you’re going to suffer?”

“What are you talking about?” the officer inquired with a frown.  “What pain?”  Lucifer’s chin dropped, his eyes narrowed and his fingers clenched at his side.

“This pain.”  He spun quickly, connecting his fist with Manny’s nose.  Satisfied as the officer fell to the floor, consciousness lost, he turned his attention back to the detective.  Henry stumbled around, the detective still on his back, as her free hand managed a few lopsided punches to his face.  His fingers dug into her arm, trying to pull the limb from his neck.  He braced his legs and steadied their combined weight for a brief moment before quickly dropping back two steps.  Chloe struggled to catch her breath as Henry slammed her into the brick wall.  Her hold on him loosened and she slid down the partition.

“Bitch,” Henry muttered.  He bent over and roughly grabbed Chloe’s hair and the back of the waist of her jeans.  He pulled her to her feet, smiling as she followed the motion limply.  With a primal grunt, he lifted her and tossed her through the large, broken warehouse window.

“You are going to be _unbelievably_ sorry for doing that,” Lucifer warned as he approached.  Henry shook his head and laughed through heavy breaths.  He bent over and retrieved Chloe’s gun from the floor.  A rustle behind Lucifer drew both sets of eyes to Manny as he struggled to stand.  Before the officer could stabilize his stance, a shot echoed through the building and he crumpled to the floor.  Lucifer turned towards Henry as the lawyer shifted his aim to the devil.  He pulled the trigger but the gun did not discharge.  Henry laughed quietly and smiled as he spit a mouthful of blood at Lucifer between turning and running into the shadowed area of the building.  Lucifer looked at the broken window then back to the vanishing form of Henry Lloyd.  “For fuck’s sake,” he spat.  Turning quickly, Lucifer ran towards the doorway.  A hard push slammed the metal door against the railing, knocking it from its less than solid position in the concrete stairs.  His eyes immediately darted to his right, blinking against the large drops of rain winding through the air.

Finding the detective’s position, Lucifer skipped the steps with a jump and quickly started towards her.  Shards of glass littered the ground around her, covered her body.  They glistened under the distant shine of the parking lot lights, sparkling like jewels.  He slowed as he reached her, listening to the crunch of glass beneath his shoes.  Lucifer dropped to his knees, paying no attention to the sharp debris as it cut through his clothing, through his skin.  He took Chloe’s hand, careful not to jostle her body.

“Detective?” he called gently, brushing the wet strands of hair from her face.  “Chloe?  Come on, Love.  Open your eyes.”  His gaze wandered to the gash on her temple.  Blood seeped from the wound, dark and red.  As it trickled from the wound, it mixed with the raindrops collecting on her skin, creating a river of a peculiar shade of pink.  It flowed across her cheek and beneath her ear lobe, disappearing into her hairline.  “Chloe,” he whispered, his attention flicking back to her eyes.  She stirred slowly, her lips parting slightly as she released a sigh of pain.

“Lucif…”

“Shh, hush, Darling.  Just open your eyes,” he pleaded gently.  “Let me see your eyes.”  She fought against the swirl in her head, against the strong, nauseating wave.  Her eyelids were heavy, opening only halfway as her eyes searched the night around her.  “I’m right here,” he comforted with a soft smile.  “That’s it.  Look at me.”

“Get…we…get him?” she asked in a whisper.

“’Fraid not.  Though you shouldn’t worry your pretty self over it.”  Lucifer’s smile fell.  “His punishment will come soon enough.”  A bright flash of lightning lit the sky, immediately followed by loud, booming thunder.  The rain came next, heavy and soaking.  Lucifer straightened and quickly yanked his arms from his suitcoat.  His legs slid farther to his right as he stretched his body to lay beside her.  He rested his elbow on the concrete and used his arm to tent the jacket over her head.  “There,” he said.  “Better?”  Chloe hummed her response.  With his free hand, he reached across her body and slid his fingers over the curve of her hip.  “Pardon me, my love.”  His fingers slipped into the front pocket of her jeans, closing around the edge of her cell phone.  He dialed emergency services and held the device to his ear.

“Hurts,” she breathed.

“I know, Love.  I know.  Help is on the way.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been one hell of a rotten year, but it's finally starting to come around. We'll get there, y'all, come hell or high water.  
> Shoutout to the wonderful Lux Cain! This one is for you, my dear!

Dan folded his arms across his chest and leaned his back against the wall, letting his head gently thump against the hard surface.  Closing his eyes, he forced himself to take a slow, deep breath, to calm his growing anxiety.  He had been waiting for word on Chloe’s condition for nearly two hours, though it felt as he’d been waiting for days.  His patience had been in check.  At first.  He had remained in the main sitting area, as told, but as time had continued to pass much too rapidly without any information, his temper had started to flare.  Dan had raised his voice as he had asked his questions, had flashed his badge to get his answers more quickly.  At that point, he had been removed from the public waiting room as not to further stress the family and friends of other patients.  Hospital security had escorted him into a more private space, a space occupied by one other person.

Lucifer Morningstar.

Rolling his head to the left, Dan opened his eyes and locked on Lucifer’s form as the taller man paced the room.  Lucifer’s hair was wet, curls threatening to spring from their straightened state.  His clothing was wet as well, the fabric hanging heavily over his shoulders, clinging tightly to his back.  The soaked areas took on a shade of purple darker than the shirt’s normal hue, catching the eyes, but the spot darker still along the sleeve of Lucifer’s left elbow fiercely snagged Dan’s attention.

“Is that your blood or hers?” Dan asked as he closed his eyes again.  Lucifer stopped his pacing and turned towards the male detective, a confused expression on his face.

“I’m sorry?’

“The marks on your shirt.”  He motioned to his own elbow as he opened his eyes.  “Your blood or hers?”  Lucifer pulled at the rolled up cuff, sliding the material around his arm and into view.  He frowned as he eyed the bloodstains.  The glass that had covered the ground beside Chloe had significantly sliced into his skin as he had settled beside her.  He hadn’t paid any attention to the cuts, to the blood until a paramedic had asked if he’d needed care.  His fingers hooked under the cuff and pulled the shirt over his elbow, skimming the skin along the way.  No sigh of the injuries remained; he had healed completely during the drive from the warehouse to the hospital.

“Mine,” Lucifer answered quietly.

“This whole civilian consultant thing,” Dan started, slowly shaking his head, “is a bunch of bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”  He pushed himself from the wall and stepped forward.  “It’s _your_ fault she’s in there; _your_ fault she’s injured.”

“Oh?”  Lucifer cocked his head to the side.  “And what, pray tell, leads you to that conclusion?”

“Many things,” he replied.  “First off, she wouldn’t be tangled in this whole mess with Lloyd if you weren’t her partner.”

“I hardly think I’m to blame for—”

“Secondly, you’re not trained for this type of situation,” he continued.  “For _any_ police-involved situation.  Chloe needed someone who is.  But because you were there _not_ knowing how to handle things, she’s hurt.”

“All right,” Lucifer nodded.  “I’ll play this little game.  First off,” he repeated with a bit, “the detective would not be in this situation if _you_ were not involved with dear ol’ Henry.  Don’t,” he started, holding up a hand.  “Do not try to refute my claim, Detective Douche.  I do not like liars and trying to round your way about this tangled web will not put you any more in my favor.  Secondly,” he continued, “I may not be trained in this ridiculous list of rules your organization has and does not follow, yet I don’t see any of your fellow officers stepping up to be her partner.  Nor do I see you offering any support.”

“Support?  There was a reason I called you and told you she had been texting me all day.”  He ran a hand through his hair and walked away.

“I think you and I have very different ideas of what ‘support’ means.”

“You were supposed to keep Chloe off Lloyd’s tail.  Come on, man,” he sighed, turning back to Lucifer.  “We had a deal.  A deal you broke.”

“I did no such thing,” Lucifer defended.  “I said I would do my best to deter her.”  His eyes hardened.  “I can’t possibly know what she’s up to every minute of every day if I’m not with her every minute of every day.”  He smiled widely.  “I’m not certain you would like that.  Regardless, instead of condemning me, you should be _thanking_ me.”

“Thanking you?” Dan scoffed.

“Yes!  The detective was not heading to Henry’s little meet and greet with any intentions of calling for backup, or taking _me_ , her _partner._   Had I not followed her to the warehouse, well, she would have been lying on the ground, in agony and drowning in the rain.  Or worse.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There would have been no one,” he started, narrowing his eyes as he stepped towards Dan, “to prevent your pal Henry from permanently removing the detective from this plane of existence.”

“Yeah,” Dan breathed.  “It’s your carelessness that’s going to get her killed.”  Lucifer turned to walk away.

“She’s won’t die,” he said quietly.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I won’t let her!” he yelled turning back towards Dan.

“Right,” Dan scoffed.  “Okay.”

“Father _cannot_ have her.”

“I’m sorry; what does your father have to do with any of this?”

“Everything,” he replied incredulously.  “My father,” he said, holding his hands to his chest.  “God.”

“God.”

“Yes, God.  Do you honestly believe that the detective would go anywhere besides Heaven?  I mean, if she were meant for Hell, I’d return without a second thought.”  He slipped his hands into his pants pockets and smiled.  “Every king needs a queen, does he not?  Oh, wouldn’t that make dear ol’ Dad…”  His smile sobered.  “Happy.”  Lucifer turned his eyes upwards.  “No.  No, no, no.  This is _not_ how that is going to happen!  If that truly is Your plan, well…”  He laughed wickedly.  “If it’s war You want, then it’s war You shall have.”

“Okay.  There will be no wars started in my hospital.”  Both men turned towards the curly-haired woman in the doorway.  “I’m Doctor Griffin.  Are you Chloe Decker’s family?” she asked as she moved into the room.

“I am,” Dan answered.

“Sort of,” Lucifer added.  “He’s the douchie, soon-to-be ex-husband.  Once the paperwork is filed.”  The doctor looked at Lucifer and raised a perfectly sculpted, dark eyebrow.

“And you are?”

“Lucifer Morningstar.”  He shook her hand and smiled.  “I am Detective Decker’s partner.”

“Oh, so Detective Morningstar.”

“Official Civilian Consultant to the LAPD…Morningstar.”

“So not family,” Dan started.  Lucifer lifted his arm to the side and pushed Dan back a step as he moved himself forward.  Dan took Lucifer’s elbow and did the same.  The doctor looked between the two men, clearly unamused over their cocky displays.  She sighed loudly and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  Lucifer and Dan straightened their stances.

“Are you finished?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lucifer answered.

“Yeah,” Dan replied.

“Great.  Now, Chloe Decker.  She’s a very lucky woman.  No broken bones despite the impact of her attacker and her landing on the concrete.  She does have a deep cut on her shoulder and a few others on her back that required stitches.  Over the next few days, she will more than likely discover several cuts and scratches, but they shouldn’t cause any worries.”  The doctor shoved her hands into the pockets of her white lab coat.  “Mrs. Decker is pretty bruised.  She’ll be sore for a bit, but all in all, I think she’ll be just fine.  We are going to keep her overnight for observation, though; monitor for signs of a concussion.”

“Can I see her?” Dan asked.

“We’re moving her out of the ER and into a room,” she explained.  “Once she’s settled you can see her.”

“Okay.  Thank you, Doctor Griffin.”  With a nod, the doctor turned and left the room.  “You can leave now, too, Lucifer,” he bit.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see the detective,” he replied, turning towards Dan.

“There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near her,” Dan said.  “This is the second time she’s landed in the hospital while working with you.”

“I do not need _your_ permission to see _my_ partner.”

“Lucifer!”  The high-pitched squeak of the detectives’ daughter wafted through the air, quickly putting space between man and devil, though neither broke their heated gaze.  Lucifer braced against the slight impact he received as a short pair of arms wrapped around his waist.

“Hello, child,” he said softly, quietly.

“Sorry.”  A young, college-aged woman with curly black hair shrugged her shoulders as she entered the room.  “She got away from me.”

“It’s all right, Julia,” Dan started.  “Thank you for bringing Trixie in.”

“Julia?” Lucifer questioned.  “Ah, yes,” he started with a wide smile.  “You’re the babysitter.”

“Yeah,” she answered with a soft smile of her own.

“This,” he started, pointing both index fingers at Trixie.  “Never allow her to do this.”

“Lucifer?”  He looked down at the little girl.  Her large brown eyes stared up at him, concern swimming across her innocent face.  “Is my mom okay?”

“Your mother will be fine, little one.”  Though she nodded, he saw no relief in her features.  “Perhaps…”  He gingerly took her hands and put some distance between them.  “The doctor said your mum can have visitors soon.  Perhaps you and your father can find out what room she will be in.”  Trixie smiled and pulled her hands from Lucifer’s loose grip to lunge forward and tightly hug him again.

“I can’t believe this,” Dan bit.  Lucifer held back his uneasiness over the girl’s proximity and pinned Dan with a pointed look.

“Now, now,” he started quietly.  “Let’s not further upset the child.”  He took her hand and held it towards Dan.  “Go,” he said.  “Go see your mother.”  Trixie took hold of her father’s hand and they started towards the door.

“Lucifer, are you coming, too?” she asked.

“I will see her shortly,” he answered.  “I have…something to finish first.”  He watched farther and daughter leave the room, followed by the young babysitter, and then shivered when the trio was out of sight.  “Oh, I hate children,” he mumbled as he turned towards the middle of the empty room.

“Well, _that_ one sure seems to like _you_.”

“Maze,” he greeted stiffly as he turned back to the doorway.  His eyes slowly travelled down her leather-clad body as he slipped his hands into pockets.  “Maze, Mazie-Maze.  I am still incredibly pissed at you, but I must give credit where credit is due.  You look positively radiant when you’re all hot and bothered.”  He nodded his approval as she sauntered towards him.

“I have a surprise for you,” she started, fingers tracing an upwards path around the buttons of his damp dress shirt.

“Ooh, I do love surprises,” he cooed.  “However, I am a tad bit busy at the moment.”  Maze slipped her fingers into the open collar of his shirt, snagging the button as she roughly pulled him towards her.

“You’ll want to see this.”  She smiled as she lifted her chin.  “Trust me.”

**Lucifer**

“My, my, my, Mazikeen!”  Lucifer smiled widely as he passed behind her, circling her as she stood at the back of wooden chair.  “If I didn’t know better, I would think I was celebrating a significant birthday.”  He continued to move slowly, rounding the front of the chair, his quiet footfalls echoing off the storage warehouse walls.  “You have certainly outdone yourself,” he said as he angrily eyed the man tied to the chair.

“I thought you’d like it,” Maze smiled proudly.

“Like it?”  He offered a loud, appreciative laugh as a deep, red glow swirled in his eyes.  “I _love_ it!”  Completing the circle, he stopped in front of the man and quietly studied the dirty cloth bag that covered their captive’s head.  “But why, hmm?”  He lifted his eyes to her.  “What is your angle, Maze?”

“An apology,” she offered quietly, her smile gone.  “Keeping you safe also means keeping _her_ safe.  I don’t understand why it has to be that way, but I understand that it just does.”  Lucifer laughed lightly and lifted his hand to her cheek.

“Maze,” he said softly.  “Apology accepted.  Make no mistake,” he started, this thumb brushing the side of her cheek, “I will not tolerate another crossing of the line.”  She nodded.  Dropping his hand, he crouched and leaned his elbows on his knees, his chin over laced fingers.  She dug her fingers into the cloth and roughly pulled the bag off the man’s head.  “Hello there, Mr. Lloyd.”  Lucifer smiled.  “How nice to see you again.”  Henry whined behind the rag tightly cutting into his lips.  “Maze, be a dear and untie the gag.”  She did as told and tossed both pieces of fabric to the floor.

“What the hell is this?” he asked as he struggled against the ropes biding his arms and legs to the chair.

“Oh just a little payback for hurting my friend.”  Lucifer released a content sigh.  His eyes, suddenly red and on fire, rose to Maze as he let a wicked smile spread across his face.  “What do you say, my little demon?  Would you like to share?”

“No, no, no,” Henry cried.  He struggled again in vain effort to escape the ties.  “Yea though I walk through the valley of death,” he prayed between sobs, “I shall…I shall fear no evil.”

“For I am the evilest son of a bitch in the valley,” Lucifer finished.  He tipped his head to the side and offered a low, quiet laugh as his human façade disappeared, melting into the red, monstrous face of the devil.  The lights overhead flickered and the terrified screams of Henry Lloyd echoed throughout the warehouse.

**Lucifer**

Lucifer whistled quietly as he lazily wandered through the hospital hallway.  Though morning had broken, and was well underway, the hospital seemed dark.  Most of the rooms’ doors remained closed; those that were open simply led to drawn blinds.  The artificial, fluorescent lighting did nothing to promote an atmosphere of healing, and the silence that allowed patients to rest only served to add an eeriness that seemed more detrimental than beneficial.  Even the worn and tired facial expressions of the doctors and nurses lent to the dreariness.  He doubted there was any ebb and flow to the misery as there was in the rising and setting of the sun.

However, Lucifer was not about to let the trivialness of the mortal world spoil his good mood.  He had felt quite satisfied after dealing with Henry Lloyd.  He and Maze had given the man a rather large taste of what he would experience when his time on the earthly realm ran out, leaving the blubbering human in possession of just enough sanity to rethink the atrocities he had committed.  Yet when the pleasant torture had become tiresome, Lucifer had given into a need to find a different type of comfort.  A very late night phone call and a short drive later, he had found himself in the living room of Doctor Linda Martin.

_“Why do you keep treating her like you treat everyone else?”_ Lucifer had left the good doctor’s home after that question, certain his face showed every bit of his perplexion.  Why _was_ he treating the detective in such a manner?  _“Do something for her, something that shows her she is as different as you claim her to be.”_   He had spent the remaining hours of the evening mulling over everything he could do to show Chloe she was indeed different.  Even if he didn’t know exactly what that meant.  The epiphany had come just as dawn had drawn along the horizon, bringing him to the present moment as he adjusted his suitcoat, hanging heavier than normal over his right shoulder.

“Ah, there’s my partner,” Lucifer smiled as he entered Chloe’s room.  He draped his suitcoat over the arm of the guest chair.  “All bright-eyed and…”  Sighing heavily, he shoved his hands into his pockets as he took in her messy hair, the circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t do it; I can’t lie.  You look like shit, Detective.”  Chloe offered a quiet laugh as she gingerly slid her legs off the edge of the mattress.

“Thanks, pal.”  He smiled and moved to stand in front of her.  Gently, he placed his hands on her forearms and leaned in to press a soft kiss against her temple.  He pulled back, releasing a breathy, almost shy laugh.

“You had me worried.  Let’s not play the whole rushing-into-a-bad-situation-without-backup game again, all right?” he scolded quietly.

“All right,” she answered with a small nod.  He cleared his throat and took a step backwards.

“Well, I came to break you out of this sterile hellhole, but the young blonde chap at the nurses’ station tells me the doctor has already released you.”

“Yeah.  I’m just waiting to sign the discharge papers.  And for, you know, clothes.”  She shrugged gently and motioned towards a clear plastic bag on the floor next to the small, wheeled table beside her bed.  Lucifer eyed the large, blue letters reading “patient belongings” and frowned.  “My shirt is in two pieces because they had to cut if off me.  My jeans are practically shredded.  And you don’t even want to know what they did to my leather jacket.”  She closed her eyes and shook her head.  “Not to mention my wardrobe now comes with my very own collection of glass shards.”  Chloe lifted a finger.  “And before you say anything, I’m _not_ wearing this gown out of this room.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Detective.”  Lucifer returned to the guest chair and unfolded his jacket.  “I happen to have the perfect thing.”  He turned back to her, holding up a blue dress shirt and a pair of black pajama pants.  “Not the most stylish of outfits, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

“You…you brought me clothes?” she asked, gently, an appreciative softness to her voice.

“Of course,” he answered with a rise of his eyebrow.

“Knock, knock.  Hello, Chloe.”  An older nurse greeted the pair with a smile as she entered the room.  “Ready to head home?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Okay.  Here are your at-home instructions,” she started, handing Chloe a few loose papers.  Lucifer folded the clothes over his arms and joined the pair.  He leaned the back of his hips against the edge of the mattress as he attempted to read the instructions over Chloe’s shoulder.  “As you know, the doctor stitched you up in three places on your back and one on the…”  She pulled her glasses from the top of her head and settled them over the bridge of her nose as she looked through the papers attached to her clipboard.  “One on the left shoulder.  Change those bandages a couple times a day for the next for days.  After that, no more bandages.  But do keep them covered as best as you can when you shower.”  Chloe nodded.  “You showed no signs of concussion, but if at any point you start to feel light-headed or dizzy, or if you’re nauseated, come in right away.”  She gave Chloe a smaller piece of paper.  “Here are your prescriptions.”

“Oh, Detective, if I may?” he asked simply for show as she snatched the paper from her hands before she had an opportunity to answer.

“Muscle relaxer, anti-inflammatory, painkiller,” the nurse continued.  “Take one of each every eight hours.”  She flipped through her charts again.  “Looks like the last dose of painkiller was given to you around two o’clock this morning.”  She lifted her wrist and looked at her watch.  “It’s nearly nine, so you’ll have just enough time to go home and get settled before taking your next dose.”  Folding her arms around the clipboard and holding it against her chest, she peered over the top of her glasses at Chloe.  “You’re going to be sore and may have some trouble moving around and lifting things.  Do you have someone that can stay with you for the next couple of days?”

“She most certainly does,” Lucifer piped in, a large smile of his face.

“Lucifer—”

“Wonderful,” the nurse interrupted with a smile.  “Any questions otherwise?”  Chloe shook her head.  “All right.  Sign here.”  Chloe took the proffered pen and scribbled her name at the bottom of the paper on the clipboard.  “Thank you.  Once you clothing arrives you are free to go.”  Chloe waited until the woman was out of the room before turning her attention to Lucifer.

“I don’t need you to help me.  I’ll be fine,” she said.

“Of course you will.  But in all seriousness, Detective, why don’t you stay with me?” he suggested.

“No,” she stated with a firm shake of her head.  “It’s not necessary, Lucifer.  Not a good idea.”

“Well why not?”  She sighed softly.

“I’m not staying with you.”

“All right.  Then it’s settled.”  He clasped his hands and smiled.  “I shall pack my bags and stay with you.”

“What?  No.  No, Lucifer.”

“It will be wonderful, Detective.  We can stay up late and watch scary movies.  Have pillow fights,” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“Lucifer!” squeaked a high voice.

“Ugh.”  He rolled his eyes and shook his head as Trixie bounced into the room and wrapped herself around him.  “Please tell me at some point, and hopefully soon, that she will stop doing this.”  He motioned downwards towards the child as he turned a pleading gaze towards Chloe.

“Sorry,” she answered with a smile and a gentle shake of her head.  “She’s a hugger.”  He offered a forced smile.

“How special.”  At her mother’s call, Trixie released Lucifer and hopped onto the bed.  Lucifer turned towards the man and the woman in the doorway.  “Detective Douche,” he greeted.  “Not a pleasure, as always.  Hello, Julia.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Lucifer,” Dan started.  “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take the detective home.  What are _you_ doing here?”

“Lucifer, stop,” Chloe ordered gently.  “Did you bring my clothes?” she asked Dan.

“No, I forgot to swing by your mom’s place,” he answered as he moved into the room.  She hummed and nodded slowly.

“You couldn’t bring me any clothes but you could bring the babysitter?”  She motioned towards the woman still standing by the door.

“I promised Trixie she could see you this morning,” he started.  “You weren’t exactly coherent when we were here last night.  Julia is here to take Trixie to school and then to stay with you until I’m done with work tonight.”

“I don’t need either one of you to help me,” Chloe bit.

“Yes, you do.”

“Trixie?” Julia called as the little girl covered her ears.  “Why don’t we go to the cafeteria and find some snacks while your mom gets ready to go?”

“Okay.”  Trixie planted her hands on the mattress and leaned forward to place a kiss on Chloe’s cheek.

“See you in a few, Munchkin.”

“Bye, Mommy.”  She slid off the bed and waved as she passed the devil.  “Bye, Lucifer.”

“Yes, good-bye, child.”

“Are you coming, too, Daddy?”

“I’ll be right behind you.”  He turned, watching the two leave the room.

“You don’t need to stay here,” Chloe began.

“What the hell was that?” he bit as he turned back to her.  “Why do you have such an attitude when Julia is around?”

“You know why.”  She shook her head.  “Clothes, Dan.  All I needed was for you to bring me some clothes.  And you forgot.  You forgot one thing for me, but had no trouble going out of your way to bring Julia.”

“Julia is here to help you, Chloe.”

“I’m not doing this with Lucifer in the room.”

“Then leave, Dan, because Lucifer isn’t going anywhere.”  The devil turned a wide smile to the male detective.

“Why is he even here?” Dan asked angrily.  “You called _me_ to get you.  Or did you call both of us?”

“Detective Decker didn’t call me,” Lucifer started, taking a step forward.  “She didn’t need to.”

“So you just…showed up.”

“The doctor said she was keeping the detective overnight for observation.  Was I wrong to assume she’d be released today?” he asked looking between Chloe and Dan.  “No, I was not.  So, yes, I just showed up.  To help Detective Decker get home.”

“You need to back off, Lucifer,” Dan started, “and get out of my face.”

“I’m not in your face,” he returned as he settled the clothes on the bed next to Chloe.  “I’m simply here to see my partner safely home.”

“Yeah.  Are you going to stay with her, too?”

“Of course.  Detective Decker is in no condition to—”

“What are you thinking?” Dan asked as he stepped closer.  “Going to take advantage of an injured woman?”

“Guys,” Chloe interrupted.

“I would never do such a thing.”

“I can’t really say I believe that, Lucifer.”  Dan shook his head.  “She doesn’t need you.  Julia is going to take care of her and when I’m done with work, _I’m_ going to take care of her.”

“I don’t need your help, Dan.”

“Yes, you do, Chloe.”

“No, I don’t!”  She carefully pushed herself off the bed and reached for Lucifer’s arm to steady her balance.  “I need you to take care of Trixie for a few days.”

“I’m working, Chloe.”

“Then Julia can watch her.  At _your_ apartment,” she added.  “I don’t want to see either one of you.”

“There’s no reason I can’t stay with—”

“No,” Chloe said firmly.  “Leave me alone, Dan.  Lucifer,” she started turning away from Dan, “take me home.”

**Lucifer**

“It really isn’t that big of a deal, Detective,” Lucifer started as he settled the legs of the pullout bed on the floor.

“Yes, Lucifer, it really is.”  He straightened his posture and tipped his head as he regarded her.

“Why?  It’s not as though I haven’t already seen, well, everything.”  He smiled.  “And multiple times at that.”  Bending forward, he picked up a folded blanket from the floor.  “Hmm, I _really_ like that movie,” he commented as he shook out the blanket and smoothed it over the mattress.  “Also not forgetting your little display the other morning whilst I was making you breakfast.”  Chloe watched as Lucifer retrieved both pillows from the floor, fluffed each in turn and set them in the appropriate places on the bed.  “Sit,” he instructed, turning his attention to her.  “And take off your shirt.”  She rolled her eyes and turned away with a stiff movement.  “Detective,” he said, taking a few steps towards her, “you won’t be able to change the bandages yourself.  Let me help you.”  She bit at the inside of her cheek and turned around.

“You’re right.  But let me make this perfectly clear,” she started, slowly making towards him.  “This is not one of those favor deals that you make.  Understand?”

“Of course, Darling,” he agreed.  “Making this a favor would be, well…”  He slipped his hands into his pockets.  “It would be rather rude of me, wouldn’t it?  No, I would never do that.  Now, sit.”  Lucifer took a few steps forward and stretched his arms towards her.  She hesitantly took his hand, accepted the steadying arm around her waist, using him for balance as she covered the final distance to the mattress.  “First aid kit?”

“Under the kitchen sink.”  After collecting the kit, Lucifer sat behind Chloe, patiently digging through the box for clean supplies as she unbuttoned the shirt he had loaned her.

“Allow me,” he said when she struggled to slip the shirt over her shoulders.  One arm at a time, he helped her maneuver through the fabric.  Keeping his hands in front of her, he held up the shirt and turned it around.  Gingerly, she slipped her hands into the armholes.  He pulled the shirt to her body and carefully secured the top button just under her hairline.  “See?”  He gathered her hair and draped it over her shoulder.  “Sometimes the devil _can_ be a gentleman.”

“Thank you for saving some of my dignity,” she said with a smile.  He hummed his response as he parted the shirt to see her back clearly.  His fingers started to play nimbly over the line of gauze on the right side of her back.

“Relax,” he soothed.  “A few scratches, quite a few sore muscles…”  He chuckled quietly.  “Honestly, Darling, it is no different than what you would experience after a night with me.”  Chloe dropped her head as far as her body would allow and sighed.

“This is going to be the longest night ever,” she mumbled.

“How did you manage to make this bleed again?”

“Getting out of the car,” she answered.  “I moved too quickly.”

“Ah.  Well, now you know better.”

“Sure do.”

“And you took your pain meds?” he asked as he carefully pulled the tape from her skin.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Perfect.  When I’m finished here, you can settle in for a nap.”

“Lucifer, I’m not taking a nap.”

“The doctor didn’t prescribe the best of medication,” he started, slowly peeling the second line of tape from her skin, “but what he did give you should put you out.  Like it or not.”  He placed the dirtied gauze and the pieces of tape on the lid of the first-aid kit.

“That didn’t happen in the hospital.”

“Considering they were monitoring you for signs of a concussion, they probably didn’t give you more than the anti-inflammatory, and maybe a touch of the pain killer.”

“Oh.”  They sat in silence for the next few minutes as Lucifer checked the other bandages.  Chloe closed her eyes and concentrated on the warmth of his fingers, feeling a bit of relief under the sensation.

“The rest look fine,” he said quietly.  She heard the rip of paper then felt a cold wetness against her skin.  “Sorry,” he chuckled as she jumped.  “Just cleaning up the blood.”  He placed the used wipe and its wrapper next to the used gauze and picked up a clean strip.  “Almost set.”  He tore two lengths of tape off the roll, gently placed the gauze over the stitches and pressed the tape along the edges.  “There.  All done.”

“Why?” Chloe asked as Lucifer started to button the shirt.

“Why what, Love?”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“I wasn’t very nice to you…last night.”  She carefully shifted so she could face him.

“ _I_ was not very nice to _you_ ,” he returned as he gathered the used supplies in one hand.  “It was just an argument, a bit of a squabble.  Sometimes, Detective,” he said as he closed the first-aid box, “shit happens.”  Chloe laughed softly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“As am I.”  He smiled softly and stood.  She watched as he threw away the bandages and tape, and returned the first-aid kit to the space under the sink.  “Come,” he started as he returned to her.  “Lie down.”  He pulled back the blankets.

“I don’t know if…”  Lucifer released the blankets and carefully guided her through pained movements towards the middle of the mattress.  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered as she gingerly turned to rest on her right side.  “It shouldn’t hurt this much.”  He chuckled gently as he draped the blankets over her body.

“Right, because it’s not as though you were sandwiched against a concrete wall or thrown through a window,” Lucifer said as he rounded the foot of the pullout bed.  Too tired and sore to protest the proximity as he settled behind her, she let him curl the warmth of his body around her.  Leaning against his chest, she closed her eyes and sighed contently as the pressure on her back seemed to vanish immediately.  “Better?” he asked quietly near her ear.

“Much better,” she answered.  Lucifer watched the small smile fall from her face as she stopped her internal struggling and gave in to her exhaustion.  He traced a finger along the back of her hand, brushed the errant strands of hair from her face.  The moment, holding the detective, being, seemingly, a source of her comfort, felt odd in a way.  Not unpleasant, he thought; the sensations he experienced as he embraced her were rather agreeable.  Just not…definable.

Undefinable yet worth exploring.

Lucifer shifted slightly and settled his head on the pillow.  Worth exploring though not at the moment.  There were other things, more important things where the detective was concerned, that needed his attention.  Resting his forehead against the back of Chloe’s head, he sighed gently and closed his eyes.

**Lucifer**

“What the _hell_ is going on?”  Lucifer lazily opened his eyes, his dark orbs immediately meeting the angry blue eyes of Dan Espinoza.  The devil released a long, very irritated breath.

“You better have a very good reason for interrupting the most wonderful dream I was having.”

“See?  I was right,” he bit.  “Here you are, taking advantage of an injured woman.”

“Shh,” Lucifer hushed, placing a hand over Chloe’s ear.  “She needs her rest.”

“And you need to be in the bed with her why?”

“Support, Detective Douche.”  He pushed himself into a sitting position.  “Someone should be here for her.”

“ _I_ am here for her.”

“Right.  Quick pop-over on your lunch break?”

“And Julia is, too.”

“No, _you_ are running around the city being a douchie detective and Julia…”  He looked around the room.  “Well, I don’t see her here, either.”

“I could be here, but with you around, Chloe doesn’t seem to want _me_ around.”

“Can you blame her?  I mean, you were rather less than helpful at the hospital.  And that whole debacle,” he tsked.  “Picking a fight with your wife’s partner.  Well…”  Lucifer let a slow smile spread across his face.  “She isn’t your _wife_ , is she?”

“And you are not her _partner_ ,” Dan spat.  Lucifer placed a finger over his lips and hushed.  “You are not her partner,” he repeated, his voice quieter.  “You somehow managed to slither yourself into the lieutenant’s good graces.  And for what?  What is it that you want?”  Lucifer sighed and carefully slid off the mattress.

“I’m really getting tired of explaining myself to you,” he said as he stood.  “And I shall do so no longer.  Now, Chloe asked you to leave her alone.”

“I just want to know that she’s—”

“And she asked you to watch over the offspring.  Speaking of…”  Lucifer looked around again as he moved towards Dan.  “Where is the child, hmm?  If she’s not here under your care…”  A slow smile spread across his face.  “Ah.  It’s Julia, isn’t it?  The babysitter.”

“Trixie is still in school, Lucifer.”

“No.”  He shook his head and stepped closer.  “Julia is the reason you and my beautiful detective are on the outs, isn’t she?”

“That’s none of your business, Morningstar.”

“Isn’t it?”  He laughed lightly.  “I am, after all, the devil, the punisher of indiscretions.  Tell me now, tell me later,” he shrugged as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants.  “One way or another, I _will_ know the truth.  And you, dear Daniel, shall be punished accordingly.”

“You’re a special kind of crazy, aren’t you?”

“Dan?”  Chloe rubbed a hand over her tired eyes.  “What are you doing here?”

“Chloe, I was just—”

“Leaving,” Lucifer loudly interrupted.  “Detective Douche was just leaving.”  His eyes stayed trained on the male detective, unwavering, unblinking.  “And I do believe you can show yourself out.”  Dan shifted his attention to Chloe, watching as she closed her eyes and rolled onto her stomach to sink into the pillows again.  He sighed with annoyance and moved to the door.  His fingers closed around the knob and he dropped his head slightly.

“Yeah, I cut out for lunch and headed here to see how Chloe was doing,” he said quietly.  “But I have other news, too.”  He turned towards Lucifer.  “Henry Lloyd showed up at the station just after I got there this morning.  He confessed to the murders.”

“Did he now?”  Dan nodded.

“Mm-hmm.  Said he killed Katrina, and, uh, shot Manny last night when you and Chloe were…”  He ran a hand over the back of his neck.  “He implicated his mistress Gwen Tanner in the murders of Maggie and Officer Johnson.  We have a…a BOLO out for Miss Tanner.  Henry told her he was going to turn himself in, told her to do the same but…”  He took a deep breath.  “She was really angry and I’m concerned she might go after Chloe.”

“Say no more on the matter,” Lucifer said with a nod.  “I have just the place to keep the detective protected.”

“Whatever you’re cooking up isn’t needed,” Dan said with a shake of his head.  “I’ve had cars patrolling the neighborhood all morning.  There’s an unmarked next door.”

“With all of the corruption you suspect, and that you know of, do you really think you can trust the officers you’ve sent to guard the mother of your child?” Lucifer pressed.  “I didn’t think so,” he said when Dan remained silent.  “There’s more, though, isn’t there?  Out with the rest.”

“Henry also mentioned the journal, the one the two of you were trying to get.”

“Ah, yes, the infamous journal.”

“Look, Lucifer.”  Dan stepped forward and lowered his voice.  “Henry said Katrina was going to take that journal to the police, that it has information on the crooked cops in the precinct.  Henry’s been giving us everything we’ve asked for, names, dates…everything that has been going down.  But there’s so much information that Henry can’t recall it all with absolute certainty.  We need that journal.”

“Yes.”  Lucifer stepped closer to Dan and lowered his voice.  “The detective and I tried to retrieve it, yet no one seemed keen on that idea.  You and Lieutenant Olivia being the biggest of our obstacles.”

“It’s a delicate matter, Lucifer.  You know that.”

“I do.  I…appreciate that you’re trying to do the right thing, Detective,” he said, tipping his chin upwards.  “But you have a ridiculous way of going about it.  Unlike you, I am not willing to stand by and wait for the answers to fall into my lap.  So please, ask your question,” he said with a smile.

“Chloe says you have a way with…with suspects; that you can get them to…talk…when others can’t.”

“Come on now; don’t be shy.  Ask.”  Lucifer gently rocked back on his heels as he patiently waited.

“When we…when we find Gwen Tanner, would you talk to her?  Would you see if you can find out where she’s hidden the journal?”

“And what do I get in return?” he asked.

“Really?”

“Really.  Or would you prefer an IOU?”  Lucifer laughed lowly.  “One I may call in at any point, for anything.”

“Whatever.”  Dan shook his head.  “I got this far without you, and I’ll finish this without you.”  He turned and opened the door, not bothering to close it as he crossed the threshold.

“Lucifer?”  The devil stepped forward and quietly closed and locked the door before turning to face Chloe.

“Yes, my dear?”

“What did Dan want?”

“Just a check-up, Love.”  He approached and took a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“Like he’s actually concerned,” she scoffed as she ran a hand over her face.

“He truly is,” he replied with sincerity.  “He may have a strange way of showing it, but he does care.”

“That doesn’t make him any less of a douche, does it though?” Chloe smiled weakly.

“I suppose not.”  She tried to push herself into a sitting position and winced as her muscles screamed at the movement.  “Detective,” he scolded gently.  His arms circled her, helping to keep her steady as she settled her hands on his shoulders and sat up.  “This cannot be doing any favors for you back,” he noted.  “I mean, this mattress…well, let’s just say there are torture devices in Hell more comfortable than this,” he smiled.  “If you were to stay at my penthouse, I could guarantee you a much better night’s sleep.”  She cautiously eyes him, wary of the smirk on his face.

“You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?  Are you?”

“Are _you_?” he countered, eyebrow raised.  “I must say, I’m thrilled that you’re thinking about it and as I’ve said before, it is always on the table.  Though maybe we should wait to engage in such activities until you’re a little more…limber.”

“Lucifer, if I could hit you right now, I would.”  He laughed gently.

“I am simply offering far better accommodations.  And a place free of interruptions.”

“You mean free of Dan.”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” he stated with exaggerated pronunciation.  “You’ll need something to wear, I assume.  As much as I would not mind you prancing around my loft without a stitch of clothing, I’m certain that’s not an option.”

“No, it’s not.”

“And your clothes are…”

“Upstairs,” she answered around a hand-covered yawn.  “In the spare room.”  A slow rumble of laughter started low in his chest and Chloe closed her eyes, cursing inwardly.

“Perfect,” he purred.

“Lucifer, no.”  He lifted his arms, drawing himself out of her limited reach, and stood up.

“Be right back, Love.”

“Lucifer!” she yelled as he took the steps two at a time.  “Damn it.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear people! So, I did something stupid. I started a new job. And said new job is leaving me no time to write! Why? Whyyyyyyyyy? Updates will be slow in coming, but they will come! (And I promise to try to answer reviews, too!) Thank you all for sticking around with me!

“Detective.”  Lucifer bent forward, nearly leveling himself with Chloe’s seated position in the passenger seat of his Corvette.  “Slowly this time.”  He gently placed his hands on her sides as she shifted against the leather fabric and placed her feet on the concrete floor of the parking garage.

“Yeah.”  Her hands closed softly around his upper arms, using his body for balance.  “Your valet looked a little dejected,” she stated.

“Yes, well, I wasn’t about to let you walk through Lux _and_ up a flight of stairs to reach the elevator,” he started.  His hands slid to her hips, gently guiding her into a standing position.  Once he was certain her balance was steady, he pulled her a few steps from the vehicle, grabbed a grey and pink backpack from the floor of the front seat, and closed the door.  “Todd will get over it; your back, on the other hand, may not.”

“I’m sure I could have managed, Lucifer.”

“I’m not.  And I’m not willing to risk it.”  He settled the strap of the backpack over his right shoulder and carefully wound his left arm around her waist.  “It’s a moot point, Detective,” he started, slowly ushering her forward, “as we are mere steps from the elevator.”

“What great service,” she said with a gentle nod.  “If I had any cash on me, I’d tip you.”

“Don’t let Todd hear you say _that_ ,” he joked.

“I thought you said he’d get over it.”

“It’s one thing not to need his services at the moment; it’s another to pocket his change,” he said with a smile.  When they reached the elevator doors, Lucifer pushed a long finger against the call button.

“So Henry really turned himself in?”

“He did, indeed.”

“Admitted to the murders?”

“Yes.”

“And connected Gwen Tanner to the murders, as well?”  He hummed his response.  “Just walked into the station and…”  She waved her hand.  “Here I am, arrest me!”

“Well, Detective Douche didn’t give me the nitty gritty of _that_ part,” he started with a small smile, “but I wouldn’t doubt that’s exactly how it all happened.”

“Dan’s worried that Gwen might come after us?” she asked quietly.

“If by ‘us’ you mean ‘you’, then, yes, he is.”  He pushed the button for the top floor of the building.  “You needn’t worry, Detective.  I shall have my door tightly guarded.  No one will get into the penthouse.”

“I’m not…worried,” she said softly.  “I mean, I know you’ll…I know we’ll be safe here…”  Her voice trailed off as the elevator gently shuddered into its ascent.  “You’re sure Trixie is safe?”

“Absolutely,” he answered.  “Daniel’s parents have your spawn.  They should be well out of town by now.”  She nodded.  “He lied to your child,” he said with a cocky upwards tip of his chin.

“Who?  Dan?”

“Mm-hmm.  He told her she was going on a little vacation with her grandparents.  He said nothing of the supposed danger.”

“Yeah, well, she’s seven, Lucifer.  I don’t think she needs to know there’s a possibility a murderer may be after her mother.”

“And her mother’s partner.”

“And her mother’s partner,” she agreed with a short nod.  The doors opened and Lucifer led Chloe into the penthouse.

“Something else is bothering you,” he started as the crossed the shiny, black floor.  “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.  “There’s just something about this whole Gwen coming after us thing that doesn’t feel right.”

“No?”

“No.”  As they reached the sofa, he turned her to face him, and helped her settle on the cushion.  “I mean, why would she do that?  What reason would she have to come after us?”

“Revenge perhaps?”  He slid the backpack from his shoulder and placed it on the floor at the side of the sofa.  “Certainly we put a wrench in her plans.”  She scrunched her face.  “Clearly Miss Tanner was very…adamant about being the next wife,” he started slowly as he sat to her right.  “She killed three people to make that happen.  And now that Henry is at the precinct spilling their secrets…”  He shrugged gently.  “All that work and she comes up empty-handed.”  Chloe sighed and looked away.

“I wish we would have found that journal sooner.  And the right way,” she continued, absently pointing a finger at Lucifer.  “We would have more details about the unnamed woman Katrina wrote about.  The one she seemed afraid of, remember?”

“I do.”  He nodded slowly as he, too, looked away.

“Gwen Tanner _has_ to be the one Katrina feared.  She _has_ to be.”  She remained quiet for a moment before turning her eyes towards Lucifer.  Her shoulders dropped and her eyes shifted to the floor.

“Detective?”  He gently took her hand, concerned with the uneasiness washing over her face.

“Last night, Henry said I was asking the right questions.”  She drew a short breath and looked at him.  “But I don’t remember most of what he said to me.  I don’t remember most of what _happened_ last night.”

“Oh, Detective.”  He squeezed her hand offered a reassuring smile.  “You were smashed into a brick wall, thrown through a window and had a rather harsh landing on the concrete.  Stands to reason that you may not remember everything that was said.”

“I guess, but—”

“The doctors would not have monitored you for signs of a concussion if they didn’t believe you’d hit your head rather severely at some point during the confrontation.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I suppose.”  She released a bit of a laugh.  “And I _am_ pretty drugged up right now so…”  He laughed lightly.

“Well, then it’s a good thing you are here with me, safe in the penthouse.”  He brushed her hair over her shoulder so he could fully see her face.  Her skin was still pale and he could tell from the crease just above her nose that she was still in considerable pain.  He shifted closer to her until their thighs touched and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  “You haven’t eaten yet today.”  He pulled her against his body and then leaned back into the cushions.  “Are you hungry at all?”

“Not really.”  She let her head fall back against his shoulder, let her eyes close.  He reached across their bodies and carefully dislodged the thin veil of hair caught along the edge of the bandage on her temple.  “I’m lucky I didn’t need stitches there, too,” she said quietly.  “Tired,” she whispered.

“Then rest for a bit,” he said as pulled her fully into his embrace.  “I’ll make something for dinner when you wake.  I don’t want to give you any more medication without getting some food into you first.”

“Don’t have to give me _any_ medication,” she started.

“You and I both know it’s not going to happen that way.”  Lucifer’s head listed to his left and he lightly leaned his cheek against the side of her head.  “Rest,” he whispered.  He waited, concentrating on the soft rhythm of her breathing, letting his thoughts take over only when her breathing slowed and he knew she was finally asleep.  Maybe Chloe couldn’t remember everything Henry had said to her, but Lucifer did.  And, thanks to Dan, Lucifer had the advantage of knowing the nature of the information in the journal.  He knew if he told Chloe the journal contained information on the crooked members of the police department, she would find a way to skip her re-cooperation and reinsert herself into the investigation.  He held no intention of volunteering that knowledge.  He wouldn’t lie to her, however.  If she inquired, if she asked the right questions, he would answer truthfully.  Until that happened, _if_ that happened, he would keep as much of that particular stressor off her shoulders as possible, and allow her to continue to believe the journal presented what they had originally assumed it to hold, the name of Henry’s foreboding mistress.

As with the detective, something didn’t sit right with Lucifer.  Though revenge was not out of the questions, he did not believe Gwen Tanner would take that step.  He couldn’t see what made the action worthwhile to the woman.  The massive amount of incriminating information in her possession, however…

Lucifer narrowed his eyes as he stared across the penthouse.  If he were a murderous, deceitful human, well, he knew _exactly_ what he would do with that information.

**Lucifer**

“Okay.”  Dan dropped his head and threaded his fingers behind his neck as he sighed against the metal table.  “Can we just…”  He sat up and sank into the back of his chair as he regarded the man across the table.  Henry mercilessly tapped his fingers on top of the table and uncontrollably bounced his leg.  His eyes, unusually wide, shifted from the tabletop to the door of the interrogation room.  “We were doing so well, Henry.  Working together.  I was asking questions, you were giving me answers.”  Dan sat forward and placed his arms on the table.  “What happened?”

“I can’t…I can’t believe I didn’t think about it,” Henry responded.

“Think about what?”

“We’re here.  He is, too.  Isn’t he?”

“Who?  Henry, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re going to call him, aren’t you?”  He scrunched his face as tears began to gather in his eyes.  “Please don’t call him.”

“Call who?”

“Decker’s partner?”

“Lucifer?”

“Please,” Henry pleaded.  “I’ve given you all of the information I have.  I-I’m cooperating.  Please don’t call him.”

“I have no intention of calling Lucifer,” Dan stated carefully.

“Fucking Satan,” Henry mumbled.  Dan huffed a bit of a laugh.

“I don’t like that asshole, either, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say he’s Satan.”

“You don’t see it.”  Henry shook his head.  “You will, one day.  And it’ll be too late for you.”

“Henry,” Dan started.  “I need that journal, Henry.  _You_ need me to have that journal.  If any of the cops involved in this get wind that it exists and that we don’t know where it is…”  He slowly shook his head.  “You’re going to be in a world of hurt, man.  They’ll send people after you.  It’ll be hell.”

“I’ve already seen Hell,” he responded absently.

“Henry, where is the journal?”

“I don’t know,” he answered quickly.  “Gwen said she had it in a safe place but she didn’t tell me where.”

“Then tell me where we can find Gwen.”

“You’re sure he’s not here?” he asked, glancing nervously at the door again.

“Gwen, Henry.  Where can I find—”

“I know he’s here.  Please,” he started again.  “Please don’t let him anywhere near me; don’t let him hurt me.”  Dan sighed and sat back in his chair again as he watched the color drain from Henry’s face.  “You’re…you’re _sure_ he’s not here?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathed.  “I’m sure.”

**Lucifer**

The day had passed much too quickly for Chloe’s liking, as she had spent most of it sleeping.  On Lucifer, no less.  She dropped her head and stared at her fingers as they absently played along the glass wall’s railing.  On Lucifer, she thought as she gently laughed and shook her head.  She was grateful for his attentiveness, for the things he had been doing to take care of her.  Grateful, yes; and confused.  He seemed to care much more for her well-being than that of others, but it was unlike Lucifer to show concern for anyone other than himself, even when she was involved.  Yet his behavior through the course of the day, bringing her clean clothes, taking her home, bandaging her injuries, pushed to prove that observation wrong.

The kicker, though, was the time Lucifer had spent at her side while she slept.  Chloe had been certain she would wake to find herself alone in her mother’s house, abandoned after Lucifer no doubt had become bored.  But that hadn’t been the case; he had remained on the pullout bed with her, dozing softly with his arms tenderly curled around her body.  And after she had fallen asleep on the sofa in his penthouse, well, he had stayed by her then, as well.  Chloe closed her eyes and thought about the moment she had started to awaken.  Lucifer’s voice was soft as he had hummed, his embrace gentle as she had rested against him, keeping her as comfortable as possible in her awkward positioning.

After Chloe had woken, they had shared dinner on the balcony, a wonderful, hearty pasta dish Lucifer had thrown together.  Chloe hadn’t claimed much of an appetite but after the first bite, she had realized just how famished she had become. As Lucifer had excused himself to take care of their dirty dishes, she had remained on the balcony to enjoy the fresh air spun by the gentle, late-evening breeze.  Chloe opened her eyes and peered over the beautiful, twinkling lights of the city below.  She felt rested, despite the exhaustion of the physical abuse suffered by her body; she knew she had Lucifer to thank for the serenity.

And so help him if this was his way of trying to get her into bed.

“Detective?”  Chloe carefully turned towards the sound of Lucifer’s voice and returned the gently smile he offered.  As he reached her side, he lifted his hand, a tumbler between his thumb and index finger.

“Lucifer,” she started, eyeing the glass of clear liquid.  “I can’t have alcohol.  Pain meds, remember?”

“Water,” he said around his smile.  “In a fancy glass with a slice of lemon.  Take it,” he prodded.  She hesitantly took the glass, dreading what was coming next.  He uncurled his fingers and held out his hand, revealing three small, white pills.  “These, too,” he smiled.  Frowning, she removed them from his hand.

“I hate these things,” she whined.  “I want to be pain-free, not out cold.”  He offered a quiet laugh as he sipped the scotch from the tumbler in his other hand.

“As I said, a good reason that you’re here with me.  I can keep you safe whilst you’re in your drug-induced state; make sure no one takes advantage of you.”

“How do I know _you_ won’t take advantage of me?”

“Seriously?  Little ol’ me?”  Lucifer held his hand to his chest, pretending to take offense.  “I cannot believe you think I would do such a thing.”  He broke the façade with a smile.  “Oh, my dear detective.”  He stepped closer to her, seductive smirk in place.  “The whole point of doing is to enjoy.  Your lack of consciousness would defeat that purpose,” he said with a wink.  “Now, be a good patient for Doctor Lucifer and swallow the pills.”

“Doctor Lucifer,” Chloe said with a disgusted expression.  “That sounds… _so_ wrong.”  She shook her head as she gently giggled.  “Kind of scary, actually.”

“Funny girl,” he returned.  “The pills, if you please.”  She placed them in her mouth and swallowed them with a long drink of the water.  “Thank you.”

“Lucifer,” she said quietly as her fingers played along the rind of the lemon slice.  “I still feel bad about last night.  About our fight.  We should…talk.”  He nodded and lifted his hand.

“We will.”  He tucked a long strand of wind-blown hair behind her ear.  “Right now, you need to concentrate on healing.”

“But, Lucifer, we—”  Gently placing a finger over her lips, he silenced her words.

“Off to bed, straightaway.”

“What?  But it’s not my bedtime.”  Lucifer tipped his head to the side, regarding Chloe as she struggled to hold back a wave of laughter.  “I don’t have my pajamas on yet and you haven’t even read me a bedtime story.”

“Oh dear, I think you may have hit your head harder than we believed.”  He lifted an eyebrow.  “No bedtime story, I’m afraid, but I am more than a fan of the goodnight kiss.”

“Okay,” she laughed.  “That escalated quickly.”

“Your fault, as always,” he said with a smile.  “Your bag is by the sofa,” he started as he took the glass of water from her hands.  “Do you need help?”  He turned and placed both glasses on a small planter stand behind him.

“No.  I think I can get there on my own.”

“You’re certain?  I don’t mind,” he said, offering his elbow.  Chloe smiled and gently patted his arm.

“I’ll make it.”

“Very well.  I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.  He nodded and watched as she disappeared into the warm glow of the loft.  He reached into his pocket and retrieved his silver cigarette case and a lighter as he turned back to the city below.  After removing a cigarette, he carefully tapped the end on the case.  The wind swirled gently around him, cool and fresh with a hint of sea.  And rain.

Rain.

“I thought it never rained in southern California,” Lucifer muttered.  “That’s all it seems to do lately.”  He lifted the cigarette to his mouth and puffed gently as the flame from the lighter touched the other end.  Once fully lit, he took a long drag and then held the cigarette in front of him, absently studying the glowing tip.  It would take a while, he believed, to see the rain, to feel the coolness on his skin, and not think about lying on the concrete outside the abandoned warehouse, shielding the detective from the onslaught of precipitation.  Why?  Well, that he did not know.

Or maybe he did.

Lucifer thought back to the night Jimmy Barnes had shot Chloe.  He hadn’t believed the detective’s life had reached its expiration point, and certainly not at the hands of a lowlife like Barnes, so he had called the paramedics, had done what was necessary to ensure her survival.  It hadn’t been until much later that night, as he sat at her bedside waiting for signs of consciousness, that the worry over her well-being had hit him.  He could have lost her; lost this beautiful enigma of a human.  He’d had so many questions at that point, questions he knew couldn’t be answered without her.  Yet his concern had run deeper than satisfying mere inquiries.  If he hadn’t known better, he would have said the unexpected empty pit growing deep inside his chest had been fear.  But he had known better, he _did_ know better.  He was the devil, and the devil didn’t do fear.  He _instilled_ fear in those that deserved punishment

_“I’m concerned about your big plan to ‘lose interest’ by sleeping with her.”_   Lucifer closed his eyes as Doctor Martin’s voice echoed through his head.  He hadn’t understood the depth of his concern for the detective.  He simply had believed he was intrigued because she was different than every other human he had come across.  Yet when he had witnessed Chloe lying so still after Henry had thrown her through the window, something unnamed though somehow familiar had begun to nag at him, and the depths had sprung, overflowing into everything he felt.    _“Do something for her…”_ Linda had suggested.  He had watched Chloe struggle through getting into his vehicle, through getting into her house, through getting comfortable in her own bed, and his intention had changed from doing _something_ to humbly doing whatever he could to assist her.

And his assistance was _not_ a favor.  He was able to help; he was _willing_ to help.

Without ulterior motive.

As far as his plan to seek a more intimate relationship with the detective to get her out of his system, well, that plan was off the table.  They were partners, after all, and partners helped each other without condition.  He would remain by her side for as long as necessary, seeing her through any difficulties that present themselves.  Because he knew, even though he couldn’t say the words aloud, he _knew_ their connection was important.

Special.

“Damn it.”  Lucifer raised his eyebrows and turned towards the source of the soft cursing.

“Detective?” he called.  He placed the lit cigarette into the glass of water, and returned the cigarette case and lighter to his pocket.  “Are you all right?” he asked as he entered the loft.

“Yeah,” she said, dropping heavily onto the sofa.  “Just…”  She lazily ran a hand through her hair.  “The meds…kicking in.”  Lucifer offered a soft chuckle.  “Not funny.”

“Agree to disagree, my dear.”  He took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet, steadying her stance with an arm around the back of her hips.

“What are…you doing?”  Her fingers tightened around his hand as though it would help restore her balance.

“Taking you to bed, of course,” he replied, as he started to lead her slowly through the loft.

“Mm-mm.”  Trying to stop their movement, Chloe pushed back into Lucifer, failing to do everything besides strengthen his hold on her.

“Detective,” he scolded gently.  “You are in no condition to argue.”

“Couch is fine.”

“No, it’s not.”  She stumbled up the steps to his bedroom, staying upright only with the addition of his support.  When they reached the bed, he released her hand and pulled back the blankets.  “In you go.”  She awkwardly lowered herself, all but rolling out of his grip as she pushed through the twinges and dull aches throughout her muscles.  As she settled towards the middle of the bed, he drew the covers over her body.

“Finally…have me…in your bed.”

“I don’t think we’re quite on the same page with this, Love,” Lucifer laughed lightly.  “We’re not even in the same book.  Or the same bloody library, for that matter.”  He sat beside her, smoothing the mess of hair from her face.  She gave him a sleepy smile.

“Okay if I…stay here?”

“Of course, Darling,” he smiled.  “Mi casa es tu casa.”

“Maze…doesn’t like me.”

“Maze doesn’t like anyone,” he laughed.  His smile fell slowly.  Maze had given her word that she would not harm Chloe, but the thought of the two of them being in the same building put Lucifer on edge.  “She won’t bother you.  I promise.”

“Lucifer?”  She slowly shook her head.  “Alone.”

“You’re not,” he assured her.  “I’m here.”

“Please,” she whispered.  He watched her for a moment as she fought against the flicker of her eyelids, waiting for his answer to her implied question.

“Of course I’ll stay with you.”  He ran his fingers over the top of her head.  “I’ll be right back.  Don’t go anywhere,” he joked lightly.  She breathed a small laugh and her eyes finally closed.  He stood and turned away from the bed, his expression blank as his eyes absently searched the floor.

“What is _she_ doing here?”  Lucifer immediately stopped and lifted his eyes to the open area of the penthouse.

“Hello, Maze,” he smiled.  “Who’s tending the bar?”

“Patrick,” she answered, crossing her arms in front of her chest.  “What is she doing here?” the demon repeated.

“Resting.”

“Hmm.”  A slick smile tugged at the corner of her lips.  “Is _that_ what humans are calling it these days?”

“Look at you, Maze, developing quite the sense of humor,” he deadpanned.  “A moment?”  He pointed towards the dressing area of his room.  Maze rolled her eyes and turned her back to him.  As she wandered through the penthouse, she ran her fingers across the top of the keys of the piano.  Black and white, as stark in contrast as the Lucifer that used to rule Hell and the…whatever it was he was becoming.  With another roll of her eyes, she moved to the bar, perusing the wide selection of alcohol before choosing and pouring a healthy glass of whiskey.  “If Patrick has an eye on the bar, why are you not on the prowl?” Lucifer called from the bedroom.

“Something is bothering me,” she answered.

“And what is that?”  She took a long drink before answering.

“You.”

“Me?”  He stepped out of the room and descended the short stack of stairs.  Maze turned towards the sound of his voice, her mouth opening in concern when her eyes settled on him.

“What the _hell_ are you wearing?”  He looked down at the black lounge pants that covered his legs.  A flashy red- and orange-plaid print stood out against the dark fabric.

“Nifty little invention of human modesty for sleeping,” he smiled, pulling at the hem of the white t-shirt.  “Pajamas.  They are actually quite comfy.”

“And you’re wearing them because…”

“Because I can’t very well strut around with the goods showing,” he sneered.  “I have company.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“This time is different.”

“Why?” she challenged.

“It just is.”  Lucifer moved to Maze’s side and took the glass from her hand.  “I do not know how long Detective Decker will be a guest in my loft,” he started quietly before lifting the glass to his mouth and taking a drink.  “But, I do know your panache for giving into temptation.  We’ve made up, Maze.  Buried the hatchet, as it were.”  He lifted his free hand and softly ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek.  “My dear Mazikeen.”  Her lips parted and her eyes dropped to his lips.  His hand turned, his fingers found place around her throat.  “Do _not_ ,” he started, tightening his grip, “give me reason to unearth it.”

**Lucifer**

Lucifer adjusted slightly, shifting a bit as Chloe stretched her body along the length of his.  Her head remained on his shoulder, her face shielded from his view.  He did not need to see her features to know she was still unsettled, even in slumber.  He heard the soft sigh that escaped her lips, pained with an uncomfortable whine.  He felt her fingers clench and twist across the fabric of his t-shirt.  He lifted his free hand and gently drifted his fingers over the back of her hand.  When Chloe’s movements calmed, Lucifer stilled his fingers but kept his hand in place over hers.

His head rolled to the right and his eyes took in the flashes of lightning muted ever so slightly by the opaque grey curtains covering the wall’s worth of windows.  He mentally counted the seconds between the flashes and the gentle rumbles of thunder.  The storm hadn’t quite reached the city but he believed only a half an hour or so of reprieve remained before the rain began.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbled.  “Who is calling you at this hour, Detective?”  Shifting carefully to his left, he reached across Chloe and retrieved the ringing cell phone from the nightstand.  He smiled widely as he held the device to his ear.  “Lucifer Morningstar at your service,” he greeted.

_“I knew you’d be the one to answer Chloe’s phone.”_

“So sorry to disappoint, Detective Douche, but you cannot speak with the detective,” he stated.  “She is still sleeping and I will not wake her.”

_“I don’t need to speak to her.  I actually called for you.”_

“Well, well.  Isn’t this a surprise.”

_“For both of us, Buddy,”_ Dan muttered.  _“Look, I’ve been questioning Henry Lloyd all day trying to figure out where Gwen Tanner may be.  Henry didn’t give us anything useful, of course.  But we, uh, we talked to a few people at the museum and some family members, and we have a few places we are checking out.”_ Lucifer slid his arm from under Chloe’s body and slipped off the mattress.

“That’s all very interesting,” he started as he moved towards the windows, “but I really hope that’s not what you called to tell me.”

_“No, it’s not.  I just…”_ Dan sighed. _“If we find her, a-and I’m sure we will, I have a good feeling about this…if we find her, would you…is there any chance that you could get to the station and assist with questioning?  You know, do your thing?”_

“Didn’t we already discuss this?”  He lifted his hand and idly trailed a finger along the hem of one curtain.  “I thought you said you didn’t need my help.  You’ve come this far without it, after all,” Lucifer reminded him.

_“I know what I said.  And I was wrong.”_ Dan took a deep breath.  _“I need your help, Lucifer.”_   The devil offered a pensive hum.

“Very well,” he replied after a brief moment.  “I am all yours when the time comes.”

_“Thank you.  I’ll let you know as soon as we have Gwen in hand.”_ Lucifer turned and took in Chloe’s sleeping form.

“One thing before you go, Detective Douche,” he started with an ominous quiet.  “I _will_ be calling in that favor.”  The thunder clapped loudly overhead as Lucifer dropped the phone from his ear and pressed his finger to the screen, ending the call.  He lifted his eyes as a rustle of sheets caught his attention.

“What time…is it?” Chloe mumbled as she pushed herself up on her elbow.  Lucifer moved carefully towards the bed and placed the phone on the nearest nightstand.  “I have to find…I have to…go…”  Quickly yet gently, he slid behind her.  “There’s something we’re missing…I have to…”  He pulled the covers over their bodies.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered near her ear.  “You’ve nowhere to be.”  Draping an arm over her middle, he guided her back to the pillow.  “Nowhere to be,” he hushed as her eyelids fluttered to a close.


End file.
